Ultimate Heroes 2007
by Zombie-Genesis
Summary: The ultimate crossseries tournament. Pitting the best chosen few against each other in a series of arenas across their respective universes, and Light Yagami along with the mysterious L have been chosen as commentators! Some OC.
1. Welcome to the Arena

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

_The ultimate cross-series tournament. Pitting the best chosen few against each other in a series of arenas across their respective universes, and Light Yagami along with the mysterious L have been chosen as commentators! Whoever thought this one up has one strange sense of humour. Serious OC._

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**An Authors Note:**

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Greetings one and all.

First of all let me explain that this story was started _primarily_ as a little joke between me and a friend after a discussion of 'which anime character is the toughest'? -Thus the Ultimate Heroes tournament began. Please note that because this is a story written for fun- however serious I try and make it seem- there will be some OC characters as well as the classics. Bearing this in mind I will try and keep the competitors I use- but don't own- as in character as possible. Hope you enjoy. ZG

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**Stage One – Welcome to the Arena**

"_Light-Kun?"…_

…"_Wake up Light. I think you should see this."_

With very little ambition indeed Light Yagami opened his eyes. Come to think of it, this had been the first decent sleep he'd had in quite some time; after all, being the next God of the people can put great strain on a man. Once his deep brown pupils were drawn open the lack of light made him wonder what time his involuntary partner had awoken him, and whether he really did get as good a night sleep as he thought. Then he realised what he was looking at was not the black shroud of common night, but two great and wide black spheres.

"Ryuzaki, I'd appreciate it if you didn't get so close!" With a gentle push the absent looking detective toppled back silently from his crouching position and landed on his back, still in a similar if not more vertical crouching pose. Light Yagami pulled away his own covers; of course what with the falsely suggestive chain linking them together they were forced to share a double bed- something Light was not very fond of even if L, working under his alias "Ryuzaki", insisted upon it.

"Don't you notice something odd here, Light-kun?" Looking over his shoulder Light Yagami noticed the oddly mannered detective sitting in his usual fashion on a close desk side stool. He hadn't even noticed the man leave the bed, though given his almost none-existent weight that clearly wasn't the 'odd thing' here.

"Let me guess…you're wearing socks today." A quick glance down and a smirk proved his point, "Clearly not." That was when the sleep left his body, brushing a slight chocolate brown fringe aside from his eyes Light came to a realisation.

"Since when did we have a desk?" One thing had become evident. Light needed coffee in the mornings for his brain to operate. The second thing to become apparent, they were not in their own room.

"So…what's going on here, exactly?" With a suspicious scowl the inner KIRA did arise, Light's paranoia had suddenly peaked as he realised they were not where they should be, and without any memory of getting there, it was justified. L was already running things over in his head it seemed, with one thumb between his teeth and slightly rocking on the stool. The clueless look was very deceptive.

"Well, I've been searching the room for the past six hours…" At this alone Light's eyebrows loosened from his scowl and he looked rather surprised for an instant. What time exactly had Ryuzaki woken up? Even more important though, why had it only just become apparent to wake up his roommate? "…the most I can say about this place is that were not getting out until someone unlocks that door." With a lazy gesture he motioned to the thick oak door nestled exactly in the middle of the wall opposite them. The door itself was a dark wood, with a strange golden ivy pattern around the corners. On closer observation the room in its entirety was quite splendorous, the bed on which Light now sat with his morning hair clearly reflecting his recent rise, was a rich maroon in colour and considerably more comfortable than the one he had gone to sleep in.

"Wait a second…" Light began, his urgency catching L off guard and snapping him out of his catatonic state, "How did you search the room if we're chained together?"

No farther than a dozen paces down the outside corridor a tall young man, accompanied by a more petite young woman, made an approach to the sealed door behind which a rather creepy detective was ignoring the questions of a cautiously homicidal Japanese college student from Kanto.

"Be a dear and fetch me my jacket, will you?" The strange lad requested motioning a hand tucked away inside a thin black leather glove. Like an obedient pup the mysterious partner began a quick stride back down the expensively decorated hall, which stood with a rich scarlet carpet below and warmly flickering candle chandeliers above. Taking his limitless time the silver haired youth slipped a small golden key from the inside of his glove, turning it gently in the shine of artificial noon. With no lack of haste the girl returned, carrying cautiously in her arms a long jacket- a deep and powerful maroon in colour, which suited well to the rest of his attire.

"Thank you, Kaori." He said with a gratifying nod, gladly accepting it. The teenage girl known as Kaori merely looked up at him, as though awaiting further orders, however when none came and her present company merely continued to examine his favourite jacket, she decided to speak up.

"When is he getting here? You said I could see him again!" With a silencing hand the tallest of the pair put an end to her sudden outburst. The bustle from behind the door ahead of him had come to a sudden halt, no doubt alerted someone was nearby. Not that it mattered; it was about time for the grand entrance!

"Oh yes, Kaori, one more request if you will…"

"You heard somebody too, didn't you?" Light asked, steadily gaining his footing and trying to make as little sound as possible, he stepped over to the door and maintained a careful ear to his surroundings. L however, had somehow obtained a lollipop and was nibbling mercilessly on the poor confectionary- Light had very little doubt the strange man had gone to bed with it still in his clothes. Before L could deliver a response, as unlikely to happen as it may have been, a gentle yet pronounced click caused Light to freeze his pace. With a questioning side glance to that same small stool Yagami non-verbally addressed the long haired friend and secret adversary; however the only reply he received however was an emotionless shrug and further indulging on candy. L however had not once taken his eye off the door, and was observing carefully the light coming in from underneath it. While the light in their room was plenty, despite being supplied by two oil lamps and a candle on the wall, there was still a distinct pattern of dim warmth creeping in from the outer halls. Ryuzaki was certain he'd noticed the shadows moving around outside long before Light had.

That was when the wooden cell door cracked open, slightly at first and gently ebbing further, inviting in with it the bounty of candle-light and a strong smell that was very familiar to them both, however they had not time to place it before someone nervously came through into their new quarters. The visitor was but a young woman, a girl even, no older than sixteen from the looks of it with rather scruffy black hair down past her cheekbones. Her most noticeable feature however was the tray with two hefty cups of what were no doubt coffee, and also the cause of the fetching aroma that had followed her, which was steadied in her hands.

"So, you bring us breakfast but don't full us in on what's going on here? My father must be freaking out, and he's very influential in the police department!" Of course this was a lie now that Mr. Yagami was working under L himself, who took a mental note of this but still had an optical lock on the girl. She seemed rather off-set, her clothes alone were quite tattered as well as her hair, which seemed to have had some attempt on it made but still didn't compliment her flustered appearance.

"Uhm…these are for you two, I don't make much coffee so…I hope they're okay…" With that Kaori placed down the tray and shuffled back to the doorway, as though hoping to hide behind the door itself- which wouldn't be too surprising considering she had L's haunting eyes studying her the whole time. She seemed very nervous, but despite her timid demeanour Light couldn't help but question.

"Mind telling us what we're doing here?" Light pulled his collar on the simple white shirt, straightening it out and trying to make his early-morning appearance more acceptable. Unfortunately the girl didn't seem at all obliged to give answers, and took another step back toward the door. An unexpected hand made her start, but she soon relaxed as the sleek black glove patted her gently on the arm and ushered her aside. Taking the stand now, a second figure widened the door. Standing with his own mug of steaming coffee and a rather satisfied grin, a taller young man who would have to be, at both the chained men's estimate, around the same age as Light if not a year or so older. With a subtle sigh the taller youth raised the cup to his lips and kept his eyes closed, clearly in no rush to make with an introduction. Regardless of this his clothes carried a presence of their own: he wore a long jacket, which Light recognised as being a similar colour to the sheets he had awoken under, however the rather uncommon cravat made the ensemble all the more outstanding. Below this a simple black shirt, which didn't grab much attention if it were not for the impressive golden amulet, with a great shimmering jewel much like a ruby, hanging over his chest and giving off an atmosphere close to that of royalty. His trousers too were long and a rich maroon like that of his jacket, however with both a slouch and one hand fitted lazily into his pocket this young man didn't act to suit his image.

"You seem quite relaxed." This time it was L who made first remark, still chewing mindlessly on that damned lollipop. Lime flavoured, to be more precise.

Diverting his eyes finally from the door L cast his gaze on the coffee mugs first, and then slowly raised them across to the girl known as Kaori. Reading his actions the girl was quick to fetch the cup and hand it over to the perched Ryuzaki. It was strange that L acted about ten years younger than Light sometimes, few people would guess the young looking mastermind was actually roughly ten years his senior.

"Allow me to introduce myself," The extravagantly dressed teenager spoke with an unnecessary bow, somehow managing to keep his coffee level, "My name, is Ryu."

After a brisk walk through what seemed to be half a dozen separate hallways the group consisting of two men, one woman and an L, came to a set of double doors that seemed to be an upscale version of their needlessly thick bedroom door. Clearly the appearance of these doors was a lot more important than whether or not it was physically possible to open them. Heading the pack the man known as Ryu placed a hand on the woodwork, behind him a rather lost looking Kaori clutched a tray with some empty mugs resting on it. No sooner than one gloved finger graced the door however did another hand take to slamming hard against it. Light Yagami, now appearing rather frustrated, held shut the door and now stood before the oddly dressed stranger.

"Alright 'Ryu' we came along with you, perhaps now you can tell us what it is we're needed here for?" For once Light was unsure whether it was wise to seem threatening, but in such a situation his first instinct was usually the correct one. However, the last reaction he would have expected would be for this weirdo to start chuckling with no signs of him trying to hide it. As Ryu raised a hand over his mouth, clearly realising openly laughing about such things could just possibly be considered rude, the frills on his jacket cufflinks caught his attention, he hadn't realised it before but they were very similar to the cravat he was wearing- which was weird enough. L however was not paying so much attention, he merely had his back up against the wall and waited out Lights little tantrum.

"Very well," Ryu spoke, adding a little drama by brushing his chin-length hair from before his piercing, almost frosted blue eyes. Even his hair seemed like it should come with a side order of red wine and caviar- it was a delicately light blend of pure silver and a creamy champagne tone, which suited fondly with his winter complexion. "I have brought you both here, because I have selected both of your inquisitive and brilliant minds for a great task."

At first Light wondered if they had been assigned to some top secret government special agency, but just as he questioned Ryu's motives that familiar gloved hand was raised to implore silence. Light cringed as he was forced to oblige, after all he knew very little about what was going on for the first time in his memory, so he didn't have too much of a choice.

"What is your request?" Ryu turned his head partially to share the glance upon Ryuzaki, who stood with both hands in his jean pockets and both eyes on the lengthy red carpet. "If you were willing to take a step as extreme as kidnapping to bring us here, I doubt we're talking about anything conventional."

Ryu's smirk returned once more, his eyes had already been laid once more on the uncertain Yagami Light, who hesitated in relieving his hand from the door. Light couldn't be certain, but there was something strangely familiar about this individual- despite being certain he'd never met anyone quite like him before.

"Kidnapping? Well, call it what you want really, you'll see for yourself soon enough." With this Ryu forced his weight onto the door, as heavy as they looked as soon as they began to crack open the broad barricades seemed to slide the rest of the way at their own accord. By this pound all four had herded closer to the door, even L had edged behind Yagami with earnest to see what was beyond. Once the doors were opened there was quite a selection of thoughts and questions running between the two genius minds, Light shared the primary of which.

"I didn't figure we were this high up." Light hadn't even entered the room yet, although the broad windows running along the farthest wall of the oddly proportioned room, as well as the walls to either side, gave them a considerable view of the outside world. L trekked slowly past his partner, who was soon dragged in after him with thanks to the thick chain between them.

"It's…a stadium." The detective was indeed correct, painted out across the windows like a grand artwork a wondrous stadium, sizable to that of the Olympic counterpart, stood proud within a great grandstand that their current room overlooked. It did appear to be somewhat early in the morning, as the sun was just partially overlooking the great stands from the west.

"This is…" Light began, running his hand across a thick wooden desk running across the forward window, "…a commentators booth." It was true that there was a wide selection of equipment around the room, though it was mostly furnished to be more luxurious than professional. Aside from the wide windows and the two long desks on both sides of the room, there was little else to suggest such a thing; though the two microphones on both the desks kind of gave it away.

"I hope you like the accommodations, tried to make it comfortable but, we still needed the proper tools." Ryu sat himself down on the right table, which was connected to both the front and right side window. Granted it may have been a big large for one person to sit, but it did indeed carry some level of professionalism. The ghostly haired young man tapped on the microphone stand nestled on the desk, and then pointed over to a pair of headphones which lay sprawled on a cushy looking chair, which resembled something more of a throne if anything, in which the commentator would no doubt sit. "I assume you know how to use these?"

Light nodded, still quite perplexed about this. They were here to commentate on something? How did that require a pair of greatly capable minds?

"There are two seats." L pointed out. Indeed if one were to look into the room from outside the door, without the people residing in it of course, it would well appear to be mirrored down the middle. A couple of long desks and some equipment, two important looking seats as well as a thick cream rug and toffee coloured walls sharing a golden vine décor was all to be found within the reasonable sized booth. It seemed Ryu was fond of his royal themes.

"We'll its real pretty and all, but perhaps you should start explaining." The spite was still common in Lights words, and L was wondering if perhaps this new face he was showing through all the confusion was in fact the killer he'd been searching for. However, there wasn't much time to ponder over such matters right now.

After another set of empty mugs had been laid down on the table Ryu had taken his new company through the basics of what was going on, however he was rather vague as to how it was all achieved, especially consider he seemed to be the only perpetrator. L was crouched on the burdensome desk, casting his sight over the stadium below. There was a very clear view from here, and he had no doubt the monitors higher up close to the ceiling and near the microphones would support their limited eyesight across such vast grounds. Ryu was sitting on the edge of the desk himself, tapping his fingers along the woodwork as he explained. Light was the only one of them properly seated, as Kaori was stood at Ryu's side and didn't seem very keen on joining their conversation. Lights coffee was the only one untouched.

"A tournament?" He questioned bluntly, "What kind of tournament are we talking about?" As he spoke Ryuzaki hopped off the desk and walked across a few paces to the other grand chair, running his hand along the woodwork up to the top, and tapping on it with his fingers.

"This chair has my name on it." He spoke in almost a whisper, apparently even the great 'L' could be surprised sometimes. Come to think of it, wouldn't that mean the anonymous detectives real name was only a few steps away from KIRA himself? Light leant forward perhaps a little too aggressively, but managed to calm himself when he spotted the title in question. A fine 'L' in gothic characters at the head of the chair, which was entirely constructed of lightly coloured wood and fabrics.

_Figures. _Light grunted in his mind, though this did raise a good point. Turning around in his chair, which was parallel to Ryuzaki's in the sense that it was fashioned from much darker materials; with the main exception being a silver heart carved in a similar fashion at the height of his own ebony seat. Light had seen this mark a few times before, mainly through the internet, and it was recognised within a certain selection of cult minds as being the symbol of Lord KIRA. Light could only hope L had not come across it- and he dared not question Ryu about it through fear of drawing attention to the fact! Whatever was going on, he figured these people knew a lot more than they were letting on.

"Yes." Light could have sworn he felt his pupils broaden as Ryu spoke this simple word, which was before he realised there was no way this strange man could be reading his thoughts. This situation was getting to him- that was certain.

"Pardon me?" Light regained his composure and crossed his legs in the chair, deciding to try his hand at the now room temperature coffee. L was now crouching on his own throne an arms length away from Lights, and biting on the tip of his pale and bony fingers.

"A tournament- The Tournament to be exact- A competition between few specially selected participants that I myself have arranged." His company merely nodded as Kaori gathered together the cups and took them out of the room, Light had already deducted she was more than likely a servant as opposed to an associate. It looked for the moment like this Ryu was the sole man in all this.

"And you want Ryuzaki and me to commentate on your little tournament?" L looked up at the mention of his alias. Seems the awe of the view had worn off on him.

"It does seem a little strange." Ryuzaki confirmed. Ryu merely tampered with his jacket, fixing the buttons up along it as he tucked away the strange amulet underneath. Once his jacket was fastened and he was satisfied with his reflection in the glass window, Ryu gave a warm smile that neither had been anticipating.

"I have faith in both your abilities. Now, I think you both are ready to meet your subjects." At these words the door cracked open a fraction more, a tuft of black hair perked out from around the corner. Apparently the shy girl had been listening in. Ryu stood up and gestured the two men to follow. "Come now Kaori, it's time."

The sun had already risen, yet the night air was still passing. Standing on the brink of a steel giant, a high building somewhere within an unknown city, a man with dynamic blonde hair and a ridiculously sized sword in his grasp watched out over the horizon. The sun had risen behind a stadium off to the west of the city; it was quite an impressive sight. Of course there would be far more opportunity for sightseeing, if this particular man had some clue of how he arrived in this city. _"Time to wake, friend." _He remembered a voice calling him through his dreams, _"The games are going to begin soon, Cloud." _Whoever had been calling to him, they were long gone now. Cloud Strife had arisen at the height of this great tower, and had been pondering silently for the past hour where he was and how he could have arrived there; he wouldn't be surprised to find he was still dreaming. Keeping a firm hold on the trusty blade, Cloud stepped forward once more to the direct edge of the building. Far below a series of roads was entangled, infusing into a main road heading directly through what Cloud could only assume was the middle of the city, the closest road departed off towards that stadium.

"Good to see you're ready." That voice. Snapping back in a fluid motion Cloud Strife grafted blue eyes, burning with the presence of Mako, onto a slender young man who had not been standing there a few moments before- and there was no doorway from inside the building onto the roof. The strangely apparelled man wasn't even looking at him, instead he was more preoccupied with a silver pocket watch he held in his hand. "The fun will begin shortly." Ryu snapped shut the small clock and swayed his eyes up to greet Cloud, performing a short bow.

"How did I wind up here?" Cloud made his first statement count, ignoring any need for a formal greeting. Dusting off his done-up jacket the man approached, and Cloud instinctively jutted his sword forward which quickly closed the gap between them. The First Tsurugi came inches close from Ryu's chest, given its unusual size, however the seemingly mild mannered man didn't seem to be paying much attention to the giant blade pointing toward his heart.

"You're here to attend a little fighting tournament of mine; you are Cloud Strife after all, aren't you?" The slight glint of the eyes made it clear the question was rhetorical; he knew very well who he was talking to, "Former SOLDIER, first class if I recall?"

"You've got the wrong man." Cloud interrupted sternly. Ryu merely chuckled, he was well aware of the truth behind this two-faced warrior.

"I don't care." With that Cloud looked down and huffed under his breath, hoisting up his great sword and laying it across his shoulder. With a quick glance up he then took a step back and vanished, leaving Ryu to sigh, still with that same devilish smirk plaguing his pale lips.

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**An Authors Note:**

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Thus concludes the first section of UH2007.

I hope this story was acceptable, as one of my first contributions it's nice to get a running start. Things may seem a little strange at the moment, but its Kuro's world now- so be prepared for chaos. Whether I get reviews or not I'm still writing this thing, but comments and constructive criticism is appreciated.

Also, if you know a character you think should be involved in the tournament, be sure to mention them and I'll look into it- who knows? You might pick a winner.

-ZG


	2. Gracious Welcomes

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

**Stage Two – Gracious Welcomes**

L had found himself in quite a different situation. It was mostly dark from where he stood, there was very little that stood out other than the cramped metallic walls on all sides of him, despite that though the place was actually despicably cold.

"Light-kun?" The perplexed investigator called out. He had no recollection of going anywhere past those thick doors to the commentator's booth, and without doubt he was some ways off of that right now. In fact, given the lack of light and heat as well as a horrible surge of claustrophobia, not something the detective often suffered from, he could only deduce that he was underground. As Ryuzaki placed his bare foot forward, the extent of the cold hit him- he was certain he felt ice below his feet. In actuality there was a thin coat of it dancing around his feet in the pattern of broken glass shards. Tucking his bare hands deep within his trouser pockets Ryuzaki began a steady pace forward down the shadowed hallway, he couldn't see much further than a few feet ahead and to the sides of him, and given that there were two walls on either side he could only hope that there was a path ahead of him. It was typical L to analyse a situation before making a decision, even if he was standing on a carpet of ice without any footwear- however the strange events up till late were still rattling silently through his enormous brain to the degree he was running more on auto-pilot than anything else. How he wound up in this frosted walkway was baffling enough as it was, let alone anything else. That was when he heard a scamper ahead of him, a sudden slap against the floor as though someone had slipped ahead of him, not too far ahead from the sound of it. As he verified this with the clear sound of someone struggling to get back up- the small whimpering sounds gave L the impression the person ahead was female, at first he had hoped it would be Light, that said he wouldn't put girlish whimpering and poor footing past him.

"He…he's here…" L managed to catch onto the mutterings, and for an instant he thought he'd been noticed, but the stranger pushed on.

_He's here? _He pondered- _who is here?_

After a moment of pursuit there was a sudden pace of tapping steps, and then nothing. L was treading carefully, as the ice was growing thicker, and for the first time L wished he had been wearing socks. This became even more so when Ryuzaki's toe made painful, unwelcome and slightly frosty contact with what he first thought was a wall, however the slight glimmer up this apparent 'wall' caused by reflecting ice made it clear he was standing before a staircase, with some form of light further on. Making short work of the deceptively tall steps in the name of avoiding frostbite Ryuzaki was relieved to see a room just ahead with some form of lighting, however it became apparent something rather unfortunate had occurred in this place. As he walked through the open electric doorway to a rather large, rustic green coloured area the first thing to catch his eye was the presence of snow, ice and sleet. It was all across the room, clinging against the walls like a disease spreading its vicious pattern up and across it, thick ice lay fossilised across the ground and encased the two small stations within the room, each was brimming with scientific equipment and electronic instruments- of course this was merely what L could see from the cracks in the shutters and barricades that made the little booths more like tombs. More disturbing still was the thick encasement of ice near once of the booths, it was worrying how easily it could contain a frozen human, he thought- it was only fortunate the detective did not take a closer look.

Whatever had happened here to make it so desolate must have occurred some while ago however, as there were spaces he could tread without much ice without stepping in icy water- in fact the place was very dry. Ahead of him, a great mechanical door was frozen open. He stepped through the room in his usual slouching posture, taking caution as he came to that large mechanical gate.

"Tet-…I…it's you…" That same voice, and this time it had a face to match. From somewhere close by, as well as behind him, light was seeping in to an otherwise gloomy chamber. This one however, was far grander than the one before it- in fact it was about the size of a hollowed out building in itself, though perhaps some amount broader- with the limited lighting L couldn't even see the farthest walls. The presence that consumed more space than all else within this desolate chamber- a great metallic sphere- a towering titanium capsule with countless pipes and tubes germinating from its surface and spiralling in all directions. L involuntarily took a few steps inside, unable to maintain his surreptitious analysis.

'Akira', the spherical chamber was labelled, such a great object it was, 'Number 28'.

At the foot of this monument however, there rested a still body of water- or what had once been water. Now it was merely a bed of ice that ran down the centre of the room like a diamond pathway, and at its farthest end, a young girl raised her hand to touch the frosted steel. Ryuzaki strode gently forward, making little sound and watching with one thumb placed to his lips. His bare foot stepped down onto the ice- and was instantly retracted. There must have been some kind of break or opening nearby, some source of heat or warmth, as most of the frost and snow had been banished from this more sizable accommodation. Even the frozen carpet of water was beginning to melt on its surface, but remained terribly piercing to the skin despite. It didn't seem to bother the young lady ahead.

L decided to remain in his place for the time, he observed with his own great spherical eyes much as reflecting the shadow of the mysterious object before him. As the girl paced her hand tenderly across its surface, Ryuzaki recognised her- not because of her unspectacular hairstyle or any truly distinct feature, but her shabby clothing and cautious disposition gave him a name.

"Kaori?" He mumbled below his breath. No sooner had a sudden bitter breeze, originating from a terrible fracture high above in the shadows, stolen this breath than the petrified silence was cracked. A deep, retracting jolt and a long drawing tremble that caused the girl in simple white shoes and scruffy powder-blue shorts to stumble back slightly. Ryuzaki however stood in his same gargoyle position, watching over the occurrence as a thick steam poured out from the brim of the round metal prison and spilled out across the ground, developing the girl in fog which halted close to L's feet. Kaori was no less than twelve paces ahead of Ryuzaki, still she became impossible to see as the sudden shroud persisted.

"Kaori." The same name again. This time however, it was not Ryuzaki who spoke. As though blown away by a greater presence the smog lifted, rising up and disappearing. L could see Kaori still standing in her place, but once the veil had been lifted above the great sphere another silhouette shared its presence. Kneeling at the very peak of the chamber, looking down as though a king upon his throne with one arm perched over his bent right leg, and a dynamic flare of scarlet red behind him- the man from the fog made his appearance.

"Tetsuo!" Kaori cried out, raising her arms as though she could reach him all the way up at the height of the sphere. L could not make out much from where he stood, however he did recognise the billowing red was a cape, wrapped across the strangers arm and neck. Other than this Ryuzaki could only make out a simple sleeveless white top and charcoal trousers. His face remained hidden. L took a dumb step forward, closely followed by a steadier pace around as opposed to across the walkway of ice, stunned by the spectacle. The anonymous detective approached, waiting on some kind of response from this new arrival, arising from the mists of a frozen prison and possible looking down over them, him included. Slipping aside into the shadow with uncertain caution L waited on some response, some notion from this man, as did the now anxious Kaori who stood practically on toes looking up at him. Then he fell.

Slumping over and tumbling down the cracking surface the new figure came to the ground with a solemn thump as the trailing cape came to rest over him.

Kaori threw herself aside the young man, clutching at the scarlet tear of material that formed his makeshift robe and called out to him.

"Tetsuo," It would have been difficult if not impossible for L to see the building tears, but the quiver of the echoing voice was unmistakable, "Tetsuo!" Tugging back the cape and uncovering the boy. No more than sixteen. His skin had grown pale and sickly, his spiked black hair, drawn back across his head, exposed his forehead which was laden with beads of sweat. Tendons across his head throbbed painfully and the breathing was clear but violent, coming in rasps and grunts. Still, the boy named Tetsuo seemed to have passed out, but was clearly in tremendous pain.

The next few moments passed over in silence. Kaori continued to call out, but even her own voice had been quenched. Tetsuo's gasps continued to grow worse, he had even begun to grasp at his cape as he retched, however this too had become hushed; and just for a moment, she could have sworn someone else, other than the two of them, had called out to her from somewhere distant- then it too, faded away.

Light had come across supernatural phenomena before. After being confronted by an other worldly God of Death there was very little else that would surprise him, of course he failed to mention that to Ryuzaki when they arrived in an unknown location overnight.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear Ryuk was playing a hand in this." However he did know better and he was also aware that the demonic Ryuk was nowhere near smart enough to pull all this off. That said, he was still somewhat concerned about the hints towards this 'Ryu' character knowing a little too much about him. Speaking of whom, the scandalous looking stranger had long since vanished along with his servant girl and his nemesis. However, this did free up both his hands from the shackles of constant observation, however he still had a handcuff across his wrist and half a severed chain dangling at his feet. The frustrated lord of the new world had found himself wandering aimlessly through the vomit-inducing back alleys of a third rate city, or so it seemed from this view point at least. The walls were rather wide apart, and so there was plenty of room for the residents to scatter their garbage, as well as two old sofas and a wrecked car, aimlessly around. That said, there was yet to be any sign of another resident- though Light supposed that wasn't too surprising given it was still quite early, the exact time he didn't know. Strangely enough, his wrist watch had come to a stop several hours before.

After analysing the condition of his watch, mainly by shaking it close to his ear, Light came to an unwelcome revelation as he noticed that past the rising sun before him the outline of a chain link fence between two very high walls blocked his path.

"I can already tell this isn't my day." Lights pupils focused dangerously, scowling not only over his predicament but also due to the blazing sun before him- at this point he had little choice other than rolling up his sleeves and getting some physical effort involved in scaling that fence, or he could find another route to wherever fate had decided he should be going. Even though Light Yagami was not lacking in the physical department, he still figured there would be less trouble in the latter.

Backtracking past four mounds of rotting trash, a couple of overlapping gang tags, two tattered sofas and a banger of a car, the less than humble college student managed to sweep around a far less pungent side-alley he had neglected the first time round. It may have still been early, but the shade was well appreciated. Resting his back up against the wall Light Yagami swept off his brow and gave off a troubled sigh. Not long after he had settled into his temporary oasis, the sunlight dimmed and the trails ebbed out of the thin alley passage as the almighty star no doubt passed behind a thick cloud. The lengthy cramped alley seemed so much darker now.

"I spy with my blind eye…" A shiver caught Light off his guard, a phantom voice from nowhere and a sharp, piercing sensation running down across his spine, as though someone was running a dagger down his back. What made it all the more terrifying is the fact he was standing with his back to a wall.

Leaving no time for insight, Light pushed himself off from the unusually cold bricks of the assuredly empty back alley, knowing his only way was forward Light found himself shrouded within complete black- as though the sun within that dim shelter had all but died. Standing bewildered in the darkness Light felt obliged to ask who else was in that alley, of course he was certain that just an instant before he heard it there was no one else present but himself. That he could see at least. That was when a sharp snicker made it evident he was not alone. Having absolutely no faith in this twisted place or anyone or, for that matter, anything that could inhabit it, Light took his chances and made a sprint for the light at the end of the tunnel. He may not have had any clue where he would be ending up, but he'd rather take his chances in the daylight than take them in darkness. He had almost expected to impact something, however other than a slight trip over some stray boxes he managed to break through into the outside world without an incident; and the first thing to reveal itself to him was the now welcome sun arising from its momentary rest and brining back his slight headache- but he was grateful for it now.

"Here I thought it was twisted back where I come from." Light mumbled to himself, slightly crouched and regaining breath as he kept a steady but slower pace away from the treacherous alleys with his head station to his back. Nothing was following. He soon noticed that, aside from experiencing something very creepy, he was also gradually escalating skyward. Noticing this it was in Light's usual nature to stop and observe. Knowing that whoever he had unwillingly encountered was not pursuing his rough brown shoes found a safe grounding against what was undoubtedly tarmac. Indeed Light had found himself scaling an on-ramp to quite a spectacle, a highway that ran directly through the city and spread off with numerous small roads like tentacles, spanning out into alleys and conjoining with other main roads. The buildings themselves were no real sight to behold, mostly drab and run down, the city appeared to have just recovered from use as a war zone. Besides this the key fault that caught Light's attention was the lack of any kind of vehicles anywhere across the coiling roadways. For an instant Light turned his back, watching out over the deserted highway and the broad lane road on which he now stood. That was when something pressed against his neck; the sensation was so chilling it was almost like an icicle pressed against his throat.

"Only a fool would turn his back on a ninja." The firm press on his throat felt like it was threatening to break through his oesophagus. He could not see the assailant behind him, however he could scarcely recognise an ancient eastern weapon held to his neck, from what he could see it resembled a kunai- something used primarily by samurai and hardly something common in modern times.

"Which means you're screwed." This time a second male voice, different from the first but only slightly, came from not behind but ahead- and strangely, above. That was when an unexpected jolt to his shoulders almost sent him toppling forward; however doing so would lead to his airways being severed, so Light was dedicated to remain balanced.

"You're the first guy we've seen around here, and you're gonna tell us what's going on." At first the bewildered Yagami thought someone had addressed him while drifting upside down before his face, though he was not staring into the eyes of the speaker. The one before him stared through a deep red bandana, covering both eyes, and with a snide grin left Light at a sudden loss. The strangers long scarlet hair drooped down towards gravity, maintaining its jagged spikes and giving off an impression like a head of blooded needles- and that was when Light realised.

The phantom assailant before him was standing atop his shoulders.

How this second figure managed such a nimble balance was indeed an imposing question, however what was more came when the strange young man asked why Light appeared so nervous, still with that same cheeky smirk. How could he see through such a thickly wrapped bandana?

The figure behind Light was very similar in his appearance; the same dynamically styled scarlet hair, both at a similar height and figure to the other- however the one holding the kunai to the unfortunate Yagami's neck wore a bandana that was purely black, and there was no amused smirk across his solemn and serious face. Of course Light could not see this from his position, but right now that was irrelevant information, as the man before him nimbly dismounted his shoulders and landed in a crouch before him, the charcoal coloured vest of a shirt he wore flared upward, revealing a fishnet undershirt that was concealed beneath his long sleeved cyan upper garment, connecting to fingerless yellow gloves on each hand. One of which was placed firmly against the ground, and another posed as two fingers touching against his now flared fringe.

"I have nothing to do with this!" This was the only defence Light felt he could use, after all they must be referring to the same thing he himself was wondering- what was going on with this place? The two strangers however, seemed somewhat unconvinced. The one standing before him stood and bowed to dust off his dirt brown three-quarter lengths, Light noticed that he wore a second headband wrapped around his waist like a belt, this one bore a metallic plate in the centre that Light had never seen before. Other than this the kunai holster on his right leg quite stood out, as well as the bandages wrapped around his ankles and lower leg.

"Well, you don't sound like you're talking crap, but I get the feeling you at least know something. So talk." As soon as the sentence finished the oddly dressed assassin tuned his head towards him, Light couldn't shake the feeling that those veiled eyes were still surveying him. A flash of the teeth and a brief glint of a smile, and suddenly the mans foot was mere hairs from the edge of the blade placed at Lights throat- Yagami felt his blood run cold.

"Or else I'll take that privilege from you." His precision was phenomenal, even given the size of those shoes he wore, which were a foreign combination of boots and sandals. It was then, however, that the kunai was lowered.

"Ato-kun," The voice from behind Light sounded urgent, "Someone else is near." As soon as Light was released he backed away from the second assailant, he now saw the similarities from himself- however the colour of this ones sleeveless top was an aqua blue, bare arms draped in fishnet material to the roots of his bare fingers, and his three-quarter lengths a slate grey. He even wore a similar bandana; however the one wrapped around this individuals right leg was as red as his hair, and the kunai holster on the opposite leg. There were very few doubts the two were closely related. Ato-kun, as he had been referred, cast his blocked sight onto the distant road- there was indeed something approaching at high velocity, though Light couldn't quite make out what, however it was fast approaching.

"What is the meaning of all this!?" Light backed off quickly as he could, until the roadside barriers pinned him to a wall. Granted he could scale the meter or so barrier with relative ease the distance from the cement pave below would most likely result in some dislocated joints- though still better than a dislocated windpipe. The one known as 'Ato' dodged back to his partner's side, spinning a kunai on his finger and gesturing to Light with a slight nod.

"The name is Kizuato, of the Buraindo clan. This is my brother, Kizuguchi." His limited speaking brother didn't acknowledge the last minute introduction, instead focusing on the vehicle making violent pace towards them. It was a motorbike; however Kizuguchi seemed greatly focused on it. Even Light had seen some modified bikes in the Kanto districts.

"I'll see you around." Kizuato gave thumbs up- with a clear pun on his part. The approaching steed came like a lightning bolt, there was almost certainly sparks dancing around the spirally front wheel as the bright red bike came directly into the path of Kizuato. What happened next only took an instant, but what Light did manage to grasp was the ecstatic blond hair of the driver, the vastly modified shape of the turbo-charged red bike, and Kizuato grasping onto the passing vehicle with his free hand, kunai still armed in the other. An instance later the bike, its rider and the red headed ninja were bolting down the main road and out of sight against the orange glare of the morning sun. This left Light in the company of the stern counterpart, who didn't seem to be paying him much attention and merely watched the horizon, but surely he couldn't see the distant bike against the suns blaze- especially with that pitch black cover across his eyes! Light dared to take a step.

"You still haven't told us yet. What is going on here, what do you know?" Kizuguchi didn't make even a slight movement before he spoke. Light couldn't help but wonder that himself; what did he know? There was some strange man dressed like a snob kidnapping people for this little tournament of his? Somehow people were appearing and disappearing all over the place for no apparent reason? In truth, he knew very little about what was going on, and this didn't sit well with his mental state.

"Shame that." Another voice, this time coming from beside Light that even caused the stern ninja to turn his blind eyes away from the road ahead. Ryu was sitting with his legs crossed in his casual way, relaxing on the highway barrier only a few yards away from the closer of the two males. "Seems Cloud didn't want to participate, and now he's stolen a very important vehicle- but no matter." Ryu flicked out his palm in a pointless gesture. Light was still unsure how he'd managed to get so close without drawing attention; but that said it wouldn't be the oddest thing going down here.

"You are?" Kizuguchi asked bluntly, folding his arms and bearing his demanding words without any specific emotions in his voice. Ryu merely tugged on his glove, looking pleased.

"For all practical purposes, I would be your employer." Was his answer; however it was Light who took offence at the vagueness of it all- There was only so much a vastly recognised prodigy could be left in the dark about before the demons behind the sensible smile and polite voice began to emerge.

"Who the hell are you?" The worst of Light erupted out through his voice, grabbing hold of Ryu's collar in both clenched fists. Kizuguchi merely watched in silence, watching them through his own special methods despite his lack of sight. If only for a moment, he was certain of a blood red aura emanating around the seemingly ordinary college student. Ryu made no attempt to restrain him, merely pulling the leather gloves tighter over his hands and locking Light Yagami's vision onto his pressing, steel blue eyes.

"I thought I'd already made that very clear, my name is Ryu." It sounded as though the overdressed young man had no wish to repeat himself if he didn't have to. However this didn't seem to subdue Light's rage, it seemed without any Ryuzaki around to find suspicion in his erratic behaviour Light Yagami had no reason to practise restraint- and he had to admit to himself, it felt indescribable.

"Then tell me, what the hell are you? Explain all this messed up stuff that's been happening since you showed up!" By now Light was expecting some kind of sly grin to form across his lips, however this time Ryu's face became as stern as Kizuguchi's. Taking hold of Lights arm, Ryu uncrossed his legs and leant in dangerously close to Light's face. Suddenly the growling student didn't feel quite so brave any longer.

"I'll answer both of your questions at once." Ryu spoke slowly as a rather outcast Kizuguchi turned his attention away at the height of the statement, something was happening somewhere to the west- he could practically feel the vibrations running through the air. "I am the puppet master." The champagne haired man added in a monotone whisper.

Then came a cataclysmic eruption that caused the entirety of the highway roads to tremble on their foundations; Kizuguchi had sensed the occurrence and stood firm. Light however had not been so focused as to predict the amazing explosion, whose origins could now be seen as great billows of dust and smoke bled into the air a great distance ahead of them, so he found himself swayed from his footing and collapsing against the barrier, hold firmly to avoid plummeting off the grand concrete and tarmac bridge. Ryu however did not have a hold on anything but Yagami's arm, which had been released as the world beneath their feet quaked in rage. As the last threat of maroon silk swept off from the barrier Light made an instinctive grab for his endangered adversary- he failed only by the slightest margin. As the seismic out roar subsided Light gripped hard onto the barricade and leant over it, suspending his hatred of the man as he witnessed his fatal fall. In the fracture of an instant Light saw of Ryu's final moment he was convinced the plummeting maniac had given a slight wave as he fell- before Yagami was pulled immediately from the barrier as a second tremor burst out in grandeur. This time the explosion was on a much grander scale, Light was even thrown off his feet onto the heated surface of the road, watching up through wide eyes to the scattering lashes of rubble that soared up from the epicentre of the eruption. Everything was happening at such a pace Light couldn't even process what was happening- until Kizuguchi grabbed his hand, which he had extended out towards Ryu and hadn't realised was still posed, and hoisted him quickly to his feet and steadied him.

"We can't stay," The sharp tongued ninja glanced back at the subsiding explosion before turning his shrouded eyes to an off-put Light, "We must find Kizuato."

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**An Authors Note:**

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_Kizuguchi _and_ Kizuato _are property of **homesweethomicide13**

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	3. Rivalries Reborn

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

**Stage Three – Rivalries Reborn**

There was little more than dirt and grit. Both across the ground and in the air, an earthly swamp from above that left the remote sarcophagus of a chamber beneath a torrent of solid rainfall, rocks and rubble spiralling in streams from high above as the many great tremors shook loose the foundations around them. Ryuzaki had ducked away into the shadows before the first rapture- leaving Tetsuo and his dear Kaori directly beneath the course of the downfall. Making deductions faster than thought, L took to his feet and escaped from below the scaffold staircase that soon came down along with a great weight of earth that had fallen from above. A second eruption came, taking with it the skies above them as well as Ryuzaki's careful footing. Landing without grace on his side Ryuzaki scraped his hands as he kept moving, ducking low and brushing his hand past his face as the terrible tremors made malice to the roof of the facility, breaking it away and caving it in. Trails of natural sunlight came down from above, as though some kind of divine intervention closely followed by a premature burial.

"Kaori!" L called out, facing his bleached white face down towards the ground and closing his eyes against the sinking clouds of debris which would not suit well to Ryuzaki's abnormally broad eyes. At first L couldn't make out which direction he was heading in; with the psychological impact of the explosion, softened though it may be with Ryuzaki's iron mentality, as well as being visually restricted there was just as much change L was taking off in the right direction as the wrong one- but what direction was he intending to head anyway, towards the exit doors or the two endangered people? Then another, this time a slow, building tremble in the earth that quaked loose the crumbling rocks from whatever climate lay above them.

_What could be causing such destruction? _The detective may have been moving frantically, but his thoughts came through in a clear inner monologue, he already knew the cause was not an earthquake- earthquakes do not occur overhead.

"Kaori! Can you even hear me?" Usually heroics where something outside of L's jurisdiction, if ever he were to save good people from disaster it was primarily done from behind a screen somewhere; this time though he was in ground zero, and the overbearing noise of the chaos made this sub terrain dungeon little more than a war zone. Even if the poor girl had responded, Ryuzaki would not have known.

"Kaori we have to go-" Before he could finish the blind demand the detective's bare right foot came into contact with something that sent a running sensation up through his leg. It was cold. Ryuzaki had laid a foot upon the frozen red carpet to the base of the mysterious dome, it was now coated with dirt and sand from above, which made the entire room seem like the base of an hourglass, but L's lack of footwear had at least given him a direction. Ryuzaki decided to lay fate against the odds for once and raised his head; the mist of filth was such that he could not see the air before his face- or the sudden force that impacted into his left shoulder and sent him into a literal spin before falling against the softened carpet of sands. L had no idea what had collided with him, likely a rock or some solid object that came down along with the ever depleting ceiling. Already there were great spaces through which the morning sky could be seen, if anything could be seen at all. Placing his hands against the ground to bring himself up Ryuzaki found his left arm fumbling in an attempt to support him, and a cringing pain that he silently repressed.

"Stay there!" The great L had never had to look out for anyone before, not even himself as the orphanage in which he was raised was one of such fine status. After merely a half dozen steps against the ice-bitten and rather damp sands the sound of the rhythmic quakes ceased- and yet the bombardment continued to lash down upon the ground, sending with it great mounds of earth and metal which impaled into the broad sphere that towered over the select few. Despite this, all sounds of chaos ceased, and Ryuzaki felt a great unease seep into the deep reaches of his mind. With a dull force, which pummelled bluntly against Ryuzaki's eardrums and caused his body to slide back against the less than firm ground, the fall of the earth above and all that around them was pushed away. Like a vacuum forming amidst the disaster all the mist was banished, leaving L within an invisible barrier that was protected from the blinding wasteland. All the dirt from his body, below his feet, even on his clothes had been forced from his person and now danced around overhead and ran down the sides of the invisible shell. At first this wall all Ryuzaki could focus on, that was before his senses sharply returned and his newly revived vision was cast ahead. He could not, even with his vast knowledge and intelligence, explain the phenomena he now beheld. Standing with damaged posture, with one hand cast over the shoulder of the young woman by his side, the caped young man known only as Tetsuo had found his footing and was holding his opposite hand against his head. His eyes were clenched shut. The veins around his head seemed dangerously swollen. Tetsuo was roaring from the pain he was in, however the sound could not be heard, as though his cry had forced back the torrent that was bearing down on them as well as the very sound within the air. Aside from this there was something that restrained L from approach, the two before him were encased within a light, much as the glow within a fire, that shielded around them, encasing them against the prior carnage- cast about this fantastic sphere of energy a great mass of shattered rock and bent metal beams and supports were craned over its glowing body. It was protecting them, and somehow L already knew that this was Tetsuo's own doing. The painted picture before him held so many unanswered questions, but that was when the agonised cry of a suffering young man stopped. Then the building weight overhead came down over them.

"Tell me how to work these things." Kizuguchi was mounted over a light purple motorbike, a kind of bike that Light had never seen in his lifetime- and clearly neither had 'Guchi here. The bike was sleek and low down, clearly modified beyond recognition with a windshield of a quite unusual proportion to the rest of it. The front wheel as well was larger than the rear, though not by much; the wheel itself was connected by a support a little in front of the bikes nose.

"Haven't done much riding myself, especially on one of…these." Light Yagami was riding on a bike slightly higher than his part time ninja acquaintance; however the strange mans profession in itself left him cautious enough to go along with his requests. Right now they had liberated two bikes from the abandoned streets of this messed up city. Light's bike was a brutish tone of reddish brown, and while he knew the more appropriate word for the colour, Kizuguchi did not and Light dared not to correct him, however much his nature implored him to.

"Well your bike is lower," he said, "so the handling may be different." Even as he explained his silent companion seemed to be paying him even less attention than usual, running his hands over the body of the beast while he sat in it's thick leather seat, that ran up to support his back also. Light's bike did not have this feature, though being slightly higher up did give him a morale boost. "Though, to be honest, I'm not too sure where the ignition is." Even before he managed to finish off his sentence Kizuguchi slid one of those menacing kunai seemingly from the inside of his fishnet sleeves and, taking it firmly in his fist, slammed the blade into the curved metal body before him. An array of sparks gave Light the impression the clueless samurai, or whatever he was, had made a tactical error in operating his vehicle. That was until the scarred hog kicked off without warning, 'Guchi slamming his hands over the handlebars as the bike lurched in unnatural acceleration.

"I doubt he found that in the manual." With a typical rolling of the eyes Light Yagami looked across the dashboard before him, which was quite wide for a bike, however the array of seemingly needless speed and temperature measuring equipment and fiddly buttons threw him rather off course. With a suspicious wavering of the eyes Light took a brief check over his shoulders, as though he were about to do something embarrassing, before raising a fist and slamming it down on the bike much as the now distant ninja had done- only without the sharp metal key. Now nursing a few bruised knuckles Light grit his teeth and began messing with every gizmo he could get his hands on. Kizuguchi had already made a turn past one of the surrounding buildings, no doubt in the direction of the epicentre of disaster he seemed so keen on getting to. It would have been a much simpler journey had they been making haste across the highway- however they weren't likely to make much progress on foot alone, and 'Guchi seemed quite keen on 'hunting down' one of those bikes, as he put it. They were fortunate enough to come across a few strange models outside a rather grotesque looking bar, with steps leading down into its fragrant depths and graffiti of numerous tongues and colourful words across the entrance way. Then a startling lurch told every cardiologist's least favourite man he had struck the right cord, the sickly coloured 'rod took off like a bullet, and it was then that Light realised he didn't know quite as much about these monsters as he'd first assumed.

_What kind of lunatic constructed this bike? _Light pondered, his thoughts coming through surprisingly clearly seeing as he was already booted up to seventy. Granted there was no other vehicle or pedestrian to look out for, however he felt a somewhat unusual obligation to follow after his predecessor of the road. Mainly because with L gone, and Ryu having sailed off a bridge, there was little other option he had other than roam this place alone and undergo further random assaults. Drifting rather unprofessionally yet with surprising accuracy around one of the many similar complexes nearby, Light paid his attention to the only landmark he could recognise. The grand highway lorded overhead, off to the left a few blocks and there was no doubt in his complex and warped mind that the other bike was heading there too.

"Hold on a minute…" Light began, to nobody in particular, leaning forward in his seat with his eyes squinted against the building winds going against him, "how the hell can he drive if he can't see?!"

_Ato-Kun…_

Kizuguchi had torn onto the highway without so much as a tamper with his accelerator, not that he particularly knew how to use it, but so long as the vehicle was moving and kept gaining speed he wasn't too bothered. The sun had risen higher by now, meaning he could at least see further down the road than before, hoping perhaps that he could find some trail as to where his reckless brother had been sped off to. It wasn't so much that he was worried about Kizuato, but being stranded somewhere that does not even slightly resemble their home was something of a dangerous concept for both of the brothers- especially as they had not the slightest idea how they had arrived in this strange and unusual place, filled with oddly dressed villagers and speedy metal monstrosities. The road was very impressive, as it seemed to head off a considerable distance quite unlike any road Kizuguchi had ever come across before. With his black bandana still pulled tightly across his eyes the now rogue ninja gazed out across the scenery, if only to survey where the road he was following would be leading him. This didn't stop his surroundings from being equally as stunning as before, despite being a radiant shade of blue, this however disguised the festering state of the great city. Only in the eyes of, or lack there-of, someone who had never witnessed such a vast metropolis would a utopia of criminals and gangs be considered beautiful. Such thoughts were not 'Ziguchi however, who merely grunted and turned away. The slender bike on which he rode kept a good pace, however he couldn't help wonder if there was any chance of catching the crimson lightning bolt that Kizuato had latched himself onto, even such as the miles passed without either his brother or the strangely dressed boy from before at his tail he reached a point where off to the horizon he could see no road, and knew he was nearing the end of the trail.

There was a dense rumble that had nothing to do with the slowing stream of eruptions, something that the choking roar of his metallic steed had drowned out for some distance. Turning his head fractionally to his left, the super-sensory ninja confirmed his suspicions that had burdened him the last few miles, despite not being able to neither see nor hear his new company, he was well aware of it. It must also be said that, regardless of the blindfold over his eyes, Light knew Kizuguchi had stolen a glance over in his direction. Then came the impact, something that came close to bumping the elder ninjas hefty front wheel from the road itself and slinging him off course; had Kizuguchi not made a swift caution to keep it steady, practically standing over his seat with both hands still steadying the handles- it wasn't so much more difficult than steering a bicycle, he thought. Light was more preoccupied with the blunt meteorite that had struck the south of the lowering highway barrier close to his left, crumbling the entire side of the solid roadway and causing his wrist to tighten onto the accelerator even harder than was necessary.

"What the hell was that?" Despite not feeling on best terms with the solitary assassin, Light still had some hope he was more aware of what was going on than himself, which was a serious first. Kizuguchi however merely released his hands from the handlebars, standing straight with his feet either on their stands and his arms now crossed. Riding aside someone standing on their motorbike with arms folded and a blindfold gave Yagami a sudden sense of unease. With his face directed off to the horizon the elder Buraindo brother took a brief moment of silence, his bike not veering in the slightest as its rider posed as something of a stone monument. This hadn't been the first occasion Light had suspected there was something more of these identical brothers than met the eyes.

"If I were you," Kizuguchi began, raising his hand in a gesture off to the distance, the threatening kunai still in his hand like an additional appendage, "I wouldn't draw behind." The unusual red haired man slumped down into his seat once more, leaning forward slightly and craning the neck of his accelerator, the bike lugging slightly before gaining in stride ahead of Light's less peppy brute. "It's raining."

Light though this a strange sentiment, especially given the circumstances, however there was little time to question as Kizuguchi pulled away and left Light to ponder over both his riddle and the array of mechanisms on his atrocious new vehicle. As he scanned his eyes over the dashboard for something, anything, which could close the gap to avoid being left in the trail yet again Light's eyes latched onto something coming down, something off over the terrain some distance from that seemingly eternal road. The first thing he noticed however was the desert, how long had the highway been leaning precociously over an isle of sands? Regardless of when they had passed into the land of dirt and desert, some distance off from the tarnished city, there was indeed something pouring from the skies. Like pebbles into water this downpour of disaster, this rainfall of rocks and rubble, spread out across the desert, creating craters and fractures in the sands, resembling ripples through water. The molten meteor shower was growing in velocity, and only now did Light see what his mysterious new partner was suggesting. With a terrible tremor the road beneath him once again lurched, or so it felt, as great boulders collided in with the steaming concrete and massacred the surrounding road. Kizuguchi had made trails, skimming the road far ahead of Light as he struggled against the friction of the trembling roads, trying to keep the wheels etched into the tarmac below. With a frantic hand studying over the array of needles and switched before him, Light was almost hurtled overboard by an unseen eruption; by this time he couldn't distinguish the fatal rainfall from the frequent outbursts from the same unknown source ahead.

"What in my own damned name-?" The endangered 'god' of his own mind cried out, teeth gritted and eyes now clenched shut, he could feel the front and back wheel sliding like a pendulum in all manner of direction. The contained explosions and fractures in the otherwise sturdy road drowned out the sound of all else, like a steadily building band of deathly noises- that wasn't to mention the spray of foul tasting and temperate fragments of highway collection in his breath and on his tongue, his mouth craned open in some attempt to breath past the now heavily polluted air being forced down his throat. Then, without even realising, Light tampered with something that perhaps shouldn't have been tampered with.

Whatever noise the surrounding chaos produced became nothing, as some other worldly bird of thunder ruptured through the turmoil and cascaded the undermined motorcycle like a ballistic missile- the sudden charge of power running through the bike through some unknown switch of button sent the front wheel skyward, Light now sitting almost horizontal still with his eyes held shut, as a sudden series of drastic changes chained through the outer body of the mutated bike now searing through at undefined speed. The front wheel extended outward, still erect from the rest of the body kit in a skyward angle. The side of the bike recoiled and seized, making the overall shape of the vehicle more slim-line and aerodynamic. The dashboard with the series of phantom dials became encased as a silvery metallic panel latched shut over it- however as Light partially gave way to the stomach turning lurch he was experiencing and subdued a sudden glance to the surrounding uncertainty, the ricocheting scatter of falling rock and unpredictable flare of the systematically widening exhaust, he could see the needles on each of the dials instantly reach a critical level as he latched both his hands and his legs to the hurtling vehicle. With any luck, the bike would kill him before the flying rocks.

The heavenly carnage was doing all but subsiding, however Kizuguchi was staying ahead of the certain concave that the rocks were following, the furthest damage now clear of the chaos as the avalanche drew in, distance shortening from the eye of whatever mysterious storm created it, and keeping on the tail of one very aggressive rider in particular. With his kunai still in hand the supposedly sightless ninja could feel his ever increasing ferocity through the wind, grazing him now more forceful than ever as his formidable cycle reached its peak. The surrounding desert was fresh, created in recent years and still consisting greatly of earth; and yet, the roads didn't seem to have been build all too recently, it was possible then, that the highway was even older than the desert itself. Kizuguchi leant forward further, making any and all attempt at brining his vehicle to a higher speed. He could hear the rumble of the downpour behind him approaching, faster even than before. He couldn't be certain whether the young man behind him had already been extinguished by this fatal rain, but that wasn't his greatest concern right now. If his brother could hear his thoughts now, Kizuguchi was certain he'd be ashamed. None the less the tremors continued, there was something further ahead- but the dynamically posed ninja's attention was diverted as the pursuing rampage attacked him from behind without warning. A buckling shudder boosted him forward, yet there had been no explosion of a falling star. That was when a sharp fender, supporting something of a newly armed side fin in the likeness of a short wing near the handlebars in a hammer-head shark likeness, clipped the side of his own motor and shook the over-limited wheel at its foundations. The bike in the colour of a blooded oak tore through Kizuguchi's own balance, his bike teetering dangerously in such a way he was practically cornering dramatically in place. Light Yagami's commandeered vehicle resembled nothing other than a charging raptor in the eyes of the assassin, with Light now striding confidently, no longer caught in a deathly wheelie with his head dangerously close to shredding gravel below. The transformed chopper had caught to Ziguchi's own stride, setting a trail of fire, which was no doubt part of the original creators aesthetic design, as the two caught at even pace with a progressive gap working between them as Light began to pull away- even though it was not a race of any kind, Light couldn't help think if he knew where to find that turbo-booster, he would slam on the gas again and leave Kizuguchi behind.

_Looks like I picked the wrong wheels. _With a stern face the solemn killer made a stance once again, tightening the grip on his trusted kunai blade. Turning his head slowly to face a concentrating and unsuspecting Light Yagami the skilled assassin perched his foot onto the head of his new bike, preparing. A pronounced crack, an array of shadows dispersing across the highway pave and 'Ziguchi knew the second wave was approaching. His sight had barely moved before the first struck, the pavement jolted and his bike was slung sideways. The handlebar grinding on the road and setting off a display of sparks, then the second collided. Shattering the scarred motorcycle and taking down the segment of the bridge its tattered remains lay littered over, with Lights cycle tearing off into the distance.

Cloud's sword landed in the dirt. The blond haired hero stood besides his blade, which had embedded itself in the ground. Cloud was slumped, supporting himself on an undamaged leg; his other was bleeding beneath his midnight blue trouser leg, his opposite arm bearing a blunt slash, which he supported in his left hand. All around him, a grand crater the likes of which reminded him of a smaller scale version of the Northern Crater itself, only this one seemed like the detonation site for some kind of disastrous bomb. The past mercenary was wounded, but by no means subdued. Placing his hand on the hilt of his great blade and wrenching it forcefully from the earth, Cloud Strife stood prepared. Up at the ledge of the great crater down which Cloud had fallen, set against the rising sun a tall and powerful figure stepped forward to its very edge, black boots turning the dirt below foot to dust, a distinct and lengthy coat brushing against the sand as he stood with a smirk of subtle intimidation, an image surveying down at the noble swordsman standing, both bloody and filthy, reflected in the depths of his merciless jade green eyes.

The intruding glare of the earth's sun caused Cloud to squint, his clear blue eyes could do little more than realise the figures shape against the blaze, this however did not stutter his stance, taking up arms against the one for whom he had been searching. There had been no mistaking it, from the moment Cloud had arrived in this twisted place, he had felt him. Like a persistent shadow across his back, he could not see, but could feel its presence. Where this crater was, no wind seemed to pass, as the sides of this earthly scar reached higher than seemed possible- whatever had transpired on these grounds had not been a small matter, however compared with the potential disaster that was almost caused at the hands of the now striding man at its height, such a travesty would have been a minor statistic. Despite his distance each step rolled down the crumbling craters edge to Cloud, waiting with fading hesitance as the calm and collected figure came to a halt once more, seeming to relish in the eye of the storm in which they found themselves. Each strike, each attack and every defence had built to a disaster, even the ruin seemed to be left in ruins around them; one final unseen glint to a content smirk, and he was gone.

Cloud's posture took on a sterner crouch, as if to counter an approaching predator. His blade slid across the loose stones underfoot, etching a swift line into the dirt as it unwittingly stood prepared to strike. The footing crumbled, the ledge of the crater came down and the rough slope on which Cloud Strife had bode his time let loose. Pressing off from the ground the fair haired warrior, gripped in dirt and still supporting his unruly sword, reached a height unthinkable- but was still incapable of scaling to the height of the crater and passing onto even ground. Finding him there however was an unexpected force which came as a firm grip to his injured arm, the opposite of which held his weapon, and Cloud found himself flung into the heart of the blooded pit. The godly ditch itself was of enormous size, no doubt there could easily be a small city constructed in its premises, however still being at the base of it gave Cloud a feel of unshakable claustrophobia, he felt trapped, but felt determined.

"There's no point in hiding now," taking his sword in both hands now, raising it before him in a traditional brace of battle, "this has gone on far long enough." Behind the brave warrior, approaching with undisguised steps, a tall and brooding hooded figure approached. He didn't seem to pose any argument to this. Timing his feat Cloud slung the sword to its side, laying it cautiously onto his shoulder then bearing it fiercely into a great swing, brining around his entire body along with the blade as he vaulted into the path of the conspicuously dressed menace. Almost soaring the short distance between them Cloud scowled, his colossal and complex sword trailing past his shoulder as he brought it around in a dramatic swing. As though moving through a time that paced much faster than Cloud's own, the grim faced man tore through the slimming void, his cloak tearing off his body as angelic silver flowed, hair longer than almost any ever seen, and venomous emerald eyes defining, slitting catlike and honing all vision with utmost loathing. Unprecedented armour of leather and steel unveiled themselves from the phantom shadow of the discarded cloak, however it did not matter. The signature leather jacket, shoulder blades shielded with defined metallic plates that framed his shoulders, the pitch black aura resided not only from his monotone clothing but also from the senses, the look of his face chiselled and dead, the sound that presided even as he launched, of battle hardened cries and distinct seething from between his bared and carnivorous teeth. Those eyes, they were his, they were always his own even when reflected in his successors, but for whatever reason these symbolic threats had changed, animalised, as though fuelled with the same hatred and determination that had spurred Cloud to destroy him for the first time. He didn't even need to close the gap. With a familiar striking sound, such as the echo of two reflecting entities, both the great First Tsurugi cascaded with powerful force from Cloud's grip, then the startlingly familiar sabre, the Masamune, which reached to an incredible length, collided and were slung apart as contempt fuelled sparks soared between the great blade and the formidable katana. Their eyes were locked, those demonic green eyes focused spitefully and Cloud could only imagine that his were the same, despite having been relieved of this devils influence. The crater had long since vanished, the ground beneath them far dissolved and there was no sky overhead, there may never have been to start with. For that brief moment, when both the timeless rivals were held in the aftershock of that steel embrace, they were fighting in a world beyond their own- fighting as divinities in the void beyond the life-stream, reliving that final confrontation and discarding its already historical outcome. They were facing each other as they had been, re-writing whatever mistakes destiny had handed them before. Whichever did not succeed now, would not rise again from oblivion.

"This time Sephiroth you won't come back!"


	4. Conflict and Union

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

**Stage Four – Conflict and Union**

The dust reared itself once again all too soon. Cloud's thick boots compact the dirt beneath his feet as he slid some distance across the fine rock surface. No more than a stones throw away the long silver haired SOLDIER general was in a similar position, slightly crouched as his much longer and more battle experienced boots grated against the ground until the friction gave his flight way, and he crept to a halt. Without so much as pause for breath Cloud was upon him, the deadly broad sword scraping against the metallic edge of his own fine blade, swaying frantically in movements that seemed almost rehearsed through the blood-soaked conflictions of these two warriors. Sephiroth, last son of Jenova, and restless divinity, slung his Masamune in a spiral swipe which Cloud made caution to block, the unexplained force of the two clashing blades lifting him from the earth and sending him spirally over Sephiroth's own head. The twisted inspiration of his life still with both eyes locked, their faces met as Cloud was flung over Sephiroth's own shoulders, until the blond saviour once again found his footing on firm ground. Immediately searing hot metal collided, the blades flicked and flared off one another's surfaces. With a kick and a dodge, each made their territories as they cascaded from rocks and rubble, their weapons sending spirals of unknown force and magical essence into the air. Cloud's midnight blue fleece jacket flicked against his neck, once minute straight, the next pulled any which way by gravity as the dramatic acrobatics became more frequent. Then the blades locked, equal force bore down on them both as Cloud and Sephiroth hung temporarily suspended in the air above the crater and its fresh layer of destruction they weighted down on it. Then Sephiroth's teeth glinted through pale lips, like dying and wilted roses, once more; only this time, the unspoken traitor to humanity was supporting a gentle smile- something that foretold doom. The Masamune slid along the length of Cloud's First Tsurugi at speed, sending the once unstable warrior back down in a free style fall and landing on his feet without any sign of strain, raising his hand and somehow capturing the falling blade in his grip as though the weight of such a weapon was nothing. That was when the leather clad arm began to emit a glow, something so supernaturally luminous and mirrored a colour like that of the life stream, something which had once again arisen in this battle at the crater but, for the first time, seemed to really hold the full wicked heart of the demon supporting it.

An unearthly flare combusted and blazed, like a falling star from the still heightened Sephiroth's arm, which was spread out and pointed lazily at his admittedly worthy opponent. There had been a time, long past, when Cloud had wished that Sephiroth would see him as an equal, as someone worthy of his greatest talents and to behold his most powerful secrets in battle. This was not one of those times.

The eruption send waves of the very air around them spiralling dangerously in all directions, the force of the blast slammed against the ground below and shook the very earth loose. The crater walls caved in a little more and the light became blinding, a ballistic sound raged out, so powerful and overwhelming it drowned out all else, but this sound itself was unheard, leaving all but sudden silence as the terrible comet plummeted the short distance from the ever rising figure of Sephiroth, who was once again high enough to be eloped by the sun itself, and thus the mystical terror impacted with ground quaking force and enveloped half of the craters distance. It all happened seemingly immediately, the world around them jutted and swayed, distant buildings at the outer skirts of the abandoned city trembled and collapsed without noise. The wound in the earth in which this deathly battle was fought took the full impact, the floor of the crater giving way in places and the building seas of dirt, which was quickly crushed and burnt into sand by the blast, flooded down into the fissures below; wherever they may have led.

Cloud had vanished; Sephiroth remained suspended while the initial flare subsided and slowly, the rumble of the impact came back to his enhanced hearing once more and the light of the powerful blast vanished, leaving only rubble and chaos in its wake. Then another flare, fiercer and more focused, launched like a spear from grounds unknown and caught an unwary Sephiroth through the chest. It was as lightning, only it had been targeted to the burlier fighter who now revolved almost mystically until he was lying in the air, against some unseen surface on which he lay with arms still stretching down toward the ground. Cloud Strife dusted off his deep blue trousers quickly, emerging with utmost caution from behind a freshly spurred boulder from the uneven ground. His surprise attack had worked, the glowing green treasure in his blades hilt pulsated from its recent use. A lighting spire, directly to the heart, while promising would not be enough to take down a creature that had seen the face of death itself and smiled.

Razor thin pupils jarred into life, his eyes snapping open and without motion he had vanished, only to emerge within the space of a heartbeat at Cloud's side. The noble ex-SOLDER, with his oversized broad sword and eternal chip on his shoulder, caught the transfer in time to bring up his arms once more, knocking away Sephiroth's lengthy blade before a strike could even be made and forcing him back. The self deluded 'god' known as Sephiroth, his strong arms raised before him with the mighty Masamune balanced between them. It came then, not for the first time, it was like some kind of sick dance between the two. Flurries of force unknown, presented in flashes of light the colour of the most formidable poison, chasing each of Cloud's movements as the twisted smile returned to Sephiroth's face.

"I don't intend to lose, Cloud." The first words he had spoken since arrival, spoken with such calm venom that his nemesis had come to wish he had never heard anything at all, "I may have lost mother's head, but I shall soon have yours!" Such malice was something uncommon in Sephiroth, whom usually made his threats through his actions, and never relied on such methods to put across his plentiful intimidation.

"Not gonna happen psycho." Cloud deflected a random shockwave with the flat side of his sword, moving at such a speed as he could muster as the cascading energy projectiles found there home amongst the rocks and the craters ledge, which soon shattered with such velocity the resulting shrapnel was flung far from the crater itself, much of which met with the actual clouds overhead before coming back down to their home with dangerous enthusiasm, all around the outside of this tempest crater many smaller replicas were being formed as the overflow of Sephiroths power chiselled away at the desert only returned the favour as solid rain. Once Sephiroth grew tired of their hellish waltz he lowered the blade partially, preparing to make with another disastrous assault, only then did the air grow still enough for Cloud to regain his focus. He had been moving fast, he was exhausted but alive, and already he had counted out the rhythm in such an attack to avoid the likelihood of death, but still the lifting fog of sand and what smelled strangely like mako remained heavy. Their battle should have been destined to draw far longer, with the two combatants growing steadily stronger and more capable to push their performance. However it was now, once the demi-god of destruction had lowered his samurai weapon that fate decided to play a whole new hand.

The tip of the body-length Masamune clattered against a flat stone, Sephiroth, who once stood at the centre of rapture, was left with gaunt face chiselled blank. For the first time since their arrival, neither fighter had their mind focused on the other. A billow of dust that had nothing to do with the battle was rolling like a heavily concentrated avalanche down the opposing side of the crater; this would not have aroused too much interest under normal standards, but when an object tearing downhill faster than a Highwind slips down onto the stable ground and hurtles towards them, it was hard not to take notice. It took merely seconds to reach them, and internally Cloud was pleased for the breather, Sephiroth was affronting far more viciously than he had ever remembered. Taking almost lengthened time with each movement, Sephiroth drew back his sword until it tailed behind him, placed both hands onto its hilt and, with a furrowed brow to their interruption, locked in stance, waiting on his own strike.

Now with a splitting torrent of sands raising aside it like a cracked tide, the re-proportioned cycle, with its maroon oak paintjob trailing behind it like a numb light alongside the red and dim blue lamps to its rear, jutted relentlessly on the unstable ground around it. Twice over the widening berth of seemingly bottomless fractures in the dirt the steed crackled and sparked, issuing random flares from unseen internal propulsion that pushed it on at a pace unnatural of such a vehicle. Light Yagami was perched with a harsh lean across the stable bike, his eyes almost completely closed as a barrage of filth rushed over his form. The side of the bike was rather more deformed than before, even with the transformation still in place, as a deep gash ran across its side where something had caught and torn into the metal, at the brink of the tear a single kunai blade jutted out to the side. With one foot placed precariously onto the blade, and a hand supported aside Light's on the wide handlebars, Kizuguchi somehow supported himself off the side of the vehicle, despite their speed, which was keeping an adrenaline pumped Light welded to his seat. The older Buraindo tilted his head aside, unlike Light he did not have to hide himself against the sandstorm centred on them. Something was not right about the awaiting scene. Light recognized a flash of brilliant blond, but…

"Kizuato is not here." It didn't even matter if his subtle companion heard. That said, no sooner had his lips parted than his expression clenched, grabbing onto the bar and twisting, wrenching it almost from Light Yagami's possession. An already unstable cycle skipped almost completely from the ground, slung onto its side with both its passengers grasping in desperation to its trembling body. Shattering along the right side of the bike, which was frankly displayed as the cycle teetered on edge, still climbing in pace with two startled riders and passing past a scene of utter chaos, a sudden flash of white light lashed out like a whip. The Masamune tore into the body kit, slicing it clean across one side. The nose broke the sands surface, buried through the dirt in a jagged trail as the rear of the bike skipped and sprawled behind it before ending its thundering journey in a spiralling cartwheel, then implanted like a monolith in the wastes.

"Still not beyond attacking the innocent." Cloud stated. For an instant he thought he recognized one of the riders, however there was something different about him, something he hadn't seen before. He must have been mistaken.

"Innocent? You use that word too often…Cloud." Sephiroth smiled through frosted lips, pale blue and speaking only ice. "None are innocent. Regardless of what you thought of those in Nibelheim, of your friends, none are without sin."

Light had his arm shielding his face, his normally immaculate white shirt clotted to the stitch with grit and dirt, and yet he did not feel injury as the bike slammed with dramatic presence into the earth. A metallic chime and drone sounded some ways off, the sudden outburst had come to a silence, and Yagami could feel not but the wind on his sleeves. Daring to unveil the world Light took a moment for his cosy toned brown eyes to readjust from the blurring world to the solitary counterpart, the swirling colours of the illuminated dashboard still shining behind his eyelids.

"Has the world stopped melting?" An attempt at maintaining some sarcastic demeanour as the promising honour student opened his eyes. The ground was not familiar, barren and filthy, however that was not much of a matter as Light was not intimate with the ground at this time, so it was all good. However, it was off that he wasn't making any contact. Kizuguchi was perched with strict discipline, structured on one leg and another crossed past his waist in balance, hoisting a limp Yagami over his shoulder and perching with utmost precision on the wide surface of the First Tsurugi. "Perhaps some day you could teach me how to do that with my eyes closed." There was an immediate period in which the desert seemed just as it should have been, settled and without irritation, after such an apocalypse of clashing force that tore and spread the wasted land apart. That was when all opposing forces confronted, unmeasured powers collided, and some serious shit happened. The blade vanished beneath the swift ninja's feet, which kicked off instinctively and catapulted with help of Clouds great swing into the air. Sephiroths vicious katana split from the sand, which was struck to such force it glowed and melted to glass fragments around the charging blade as it split the earth. A slip of the arm, a spin of the fingers and a flick of the wrist- a shower of kunai clouded the earth as 'Ziguchi took aim at none but targeted all. Light clutched against the fabric of the aqua shirt, or perhaps his trousers, was no time to distinguish. A solitary flare of plasmid orange glow, coursing like a great spire of light from the earth of the crater and maintaining its almost solid presence, much as a solitary ray of sunlight from the ground itself. Then it all fell. The craters base collapsed on itself, this time in almost continental portions as its mass waned and died, letting pass to even more streams of neon energy. This irrational event stirred only too well with the above collision of force, and before any of these potential strikes could even land their mark, hell itself bled to the surface to join the brawl. As though the planet had lost its grip of gravity, tides of grit and sand rose from the ground, large rocks and shattered boulders released their hug on the earth and rose as the light grew stronger, illuminating all around it. The building grumble of the rock crumbling surroundings and the cliff face edges of the crater crumbling and sliding drowned out, possibly passing to a level of noise beyond sound, or perhaps the rush of energy sweeping past Cloud's feet like an aggressive breeze had banished the outcry of the chaos. For whatever reason, both the impressive figures of Cloud and his nemesis, the dark SOLIDER Sephiroth, removed their attention from one another and launched toward the growing sphere of blinding essence tearing up through the ground, like a rising sun from the earth taking up a substantial amount of the perfectly circular chasm. A series of pulsating flares pushed through Light's mind; he couldn't be sure whether his eyes were open or closed. One moment a sweeping view through a public child's park, some kind of intimidating laboratory, an eternally running freeway passing by, then the great shadow, standing below dominating metallic dome- then it all came back to focus without warn. The burning star had risen, now imprinting an aura into the sky. Or so it seemed, as the white haze lifted back to reality Light realised he was at ground level, the slow ascending phenomenon overhead. Past the shell of translucent amber energy a fraying scarlet rustle marked out with theatrical presence the paramount pose of a raging Tetsuo. Arms outstretched, holding together the radiating force-field that held him high. Light parted his teeth to call something out, but between hearing nothing but an inaudible white noise and feeling himself drop to the ground and receiving a mouthful of dancing sand there wasn't much to be said- clearly the discharging seismic waves from this indescribable force had caused Kizuguchi to recoil. Holding out a grotesquely pulsating arm the concentrated atomic bomb known a Tetsuo blasted back a soaring blonde warrior, Cloud Strife deflected back from the force and his overkill sword was disarmed back over his shoulder. Sound like progressing wind was building up, even the sickening echo of an elongated blade piercing into the shuddering shoulder of some telekinetic experiment. Sephiroths katana retracted from its wounded target. Tetsuo recoiled before his assailant was effectively rebounded from the sky. Cloud was not to be seen, however Light witnessed a sandaled foot taking off past his vision, seemingly slowed with the dragging pace of that persisting noise. That was when Light became aware the rotting desert was leaving him, replaced by nothing but a white mist draining down across his eyes. Something contacted him, grabbing his shoulder and hoisting him, Light's head tilted for that last moment, and he was certain he'd seen L.

"_Cloud...you've grown into such a handsome young man, I bet the girls won't leave you alone." _…Not really…_"I wish you'd settle down and find yourself a nice girlfriend. There are a lot of temptations in the city."_…Not interested… _"I think you should have an older girlfriend. One who can take care of you- that would be the perfect type for you, Cloud." _…whatever. _"I will always be your mother." _

It had been a long time since Cloud had dreamt of his mothers last days, the last time he'd seen her back in Nibelheim. It wasn't an unpleasant memory, but he'd been glad the constant phantom voices had left his sleep some years back. Why had the dreams returned? He was still dreaming wasn't he? His thoughts returned from the cosy old bed that had been reduced to ash, back to the unknown comfort of the rough texture scuffing against his immaculate golden lances. Yet his sights still swam in darkness.

"Ack!" The abyss passed as Cloud pressed his palms against the black leather of the wide sofa and retreated to its edge as a peculiar looking young man with raven hair and eyes seemingly without pupils, or pupils seemingly without eyes, dropped out of his crouching position onto his backside, still eyeing the freshly woken warrior with some mild interest. In reflex Cloud clutched to his waist but no worn handle did presented itself, his sword seemed to have been taken from him.  
"Explain this." Cloud demanded, not specifying anything especially but the situation seemed to speak for itself. The room beyond the odd scene set the tone for Clouds curiosity; it was heavily nostalgic in the sense that the sheer amount of dark expensive oak, dwindling candles and expensive leather gave the air its own overpowering scent. The melancholy Ryuzaki shuffled from his seat and stood aside the cautious Cloud who followed him with a judging gaze. As though considering his words L pointed a finger slightly upward, raising his chin and let his eyes wander for a moment. Cloud couldn't help but consider the possibility he'd been assigned to an institution, the plain white shirt on a scrawny pale young man with rimmed eyes and startling hair made this a daunting speculation. Lowering his hand L looked down to Strife casually.  
"I don't really know." Clearly there were no answers to be gained from this one, and the intruding aroma of burning wood from the adjacent fireplace was making Clouds head grow heavy once again. Making an attempt to gain his stance the brave soldier felt a tremble through his legs as he almost met with the floor, though with such overblown carpeting it was likely softer than the couch. "I wouldn't try too much too fast," the eerily relaxed voice spoke, "I don't know how you managed it all, but it must have been a great strain on you." Disregarding the concern Cloud forced his frame to steady, flexing his arms before the connections were made.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Patting down across his armour Cloud ensured his equipment was in place, apart from his blade, before stepping back and scanning with stern scowl the aesthetically deep surroundings. There were numerous seats including a few arm chairs and a long sofa close by, confronting a crackling fireplace that fogged the entire stretch of the chamber in a ruby toned glow. Three of the four walls matched with steep bookshelves laden with leather faced tomes. Turning his back to one of the two semi-opened doorways Cloud caught the rather creepy glimpse of a shadowed smirk across those gaunt lips. L stood with his back arched a fraction, his bewitching eyes locked up at Clouds decidedly stone profile. His misplaced appearance reminded Cloud of the near-dead victims of the Sephiroth Clone trials.

"What?" The more upright of the two inquired, clutching toward his gauntlet on which latched his backup artillery of destructive material, before his hand made contact though the bluntly freaky young man straightened his own face and spoke flat.

"You have strange hair."

Before any more could be said the farthest door latched with a bolt and the jittering shadow of a new presence strolled across the walls. Cloud twitched his sight back across his shoulder; Ryuzaki didn't remove his charcoal peepers from the dynamic golden spikes of Strife's hairdo- standing before them in a luxuriously coloured, profound crimson smoking jacket, Ryu stood in the warmth of the firelight with a satisfied smile. Flicking rich strands of what appeared in the dark to be shining grey hair past his ear the omnipresent Kuro looked over to the two mismatched men by the couch and raised a silver decaled wooden pipe to his lips. Cloud remained at a loss for information but regardless he took the two steps to the fireside and confronted the rather proud figure with glass like eyes.

"I want to know how it happened." Kuro seemed less interested in Clouds hair and more in his eyes, there was something in there that amused him, with a swift smirk Ryu faced the flames and ruffled the thick cuffs on his traditional styled gown. Tapping the tip of his pipe to his teeth Kuro refrained from facing either of them again but spoke regardless.

"How what happened exactly? You should be more specific, Cloud." His voice was steady, which didn't do much to support the blonde's temperament over the situation. Cloud remained speculative as to how the irritating stranger knew of him, but that wasn't his primary concern at this time.

"I want to know how he came back." Once again that flicker of subtle amusement reflected in Kuro's features. L, who was abandoned besides the sofa with thumb to lips and head tilted aside, looked rather lost in the conversation, who were they referring to?

"I didn't know you smoked." Ryuzaki pointed out in curiosity. Ryu Kuro stepped away from the fire and looked down at the pipe in his hand, placing his between his teeth for a moment before sitting with legs crossed in the closest auburn armchair.

"I don't, the pipe just makes me look good." L nodded slowly, watching as he perched on the arm of the sofa. Cloud simply grimaced and stood before the mahogany fireplace, his shadow and shape making for an imposing image against the flames.  
"That's very nice, but I'd like some answers while there's still someone left to question." Once again that nimble hand pressed onto the spherical orbs of ancient knowledge that pressed the message rather clearly for Ryu. Stroking his hair between his fingers in a way that reminded Ryuzaki very much of a certain boy he remembered from years back Ryu raised a warning hand which caused Cloud to hesitate.  
"That's not like you Cloud, but I can see you're becoming desperate." Lowering his hand and placing it across the arm of the chair Kuro pointed the length of the pipe towards Cloud, speaking in a clear manner as Ryuzaki watched the odd spectacle from the sidelines. "You are here because I willed it. You will stay here, until it's over."


	5. Gold and Ivory

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

**Stage Five - Gold and Ivory**

Elsewhere in the confines of the multi-story complex hasted footsteps bore through an extensive hallway, the candles lighting the way seemed to die down until the presence had passed. Kizuguchi followed a steady march with kunai drawn in hand; following in step with arms folded and posing a wise visage was Yagami, looking quite calm considering recent events. That and the fact nobody wishes to wake up locked in a room with possibly one of the deadliest men on the planet- poor lock didn't stand a chance.

"He fell, I saw him. Ryu was the only one who had any idea what was going on, and I saw him slide from the rail and meet the ground." 'Guchi did not seem convinced, not in the slightest. "I'd like to know myself what the hell went on earlier." Light tagged on; however the lone ninja seemed far more preoccupied with running a hand across the wall besides him. After a short while Light noticed that his smart shoes were the only pair making any noise, Kizuguchi's sandals seemed to be walking on cotton or something as he soundlessly scanned the halls with his touch. Somehow the highly intelligent student gathered the impression that was merely for his benefit, as the elder appeared to be casting gaze around their path without much other concern. Light had some sneaking suspicion he could see through that thick material across his eyes.

"He's here somewhere." Kizuguchi spoke with certainty, despite the fact they had little clue where they had awoken to- Light had a rude deja vu from his first experience waking up in this riddle of a place. On that thought Yagami subconsciously rubbed the still sore section of his wrist where the cuffs would scratch constantly, what had happened to L, or should he say Ryuzaki, after their departure? He could have sworn he saw the haunting complexion of the young man just before he succumbed to that unknown surge. "I saw that freak with the vanity problem just before everything went to hell." As 'Ziguchi spoke Lights thoughts remained on the recent past, running through the events in the calculating fashion his brain was patented to. Nothing was making sense- it wouldn't surprise him if his new assassin friend here was indeed correct.

"I also saw Ato-Kun, I'm sure of it." Before Light dared to question any of Kizuguchi's prophetic visions the handsome scarlet haired ninja paused with his fingers grazing the side wall, he turned his face to the flat surface and smiled.

"I don't think I like that look." The insightful Yagami retreated back a few steps, half expecting some kind of blitz attack to tear through the wall- whatever kind of strange powers these people had working for them, they were not described in the Death Note that was for certain. A few strides ahead and Kizuguchi came to a door, placing his hand on its brass handle and staring forward through the woodwork. Light couldn't spot his logic, but he wouldn't risk agitating the man who only earlier had a blade pressed to his throat. Come to think of it, the only reason he'd accompanied Kizuguchi through the floors of this building would be that he himself held some suspicions about what was going down within its walls. The handle turned, but not through Kizuguchi's own efforts. The door unlatched and parted, the blind ninja stood in place and removed his pale hand from the brass as a tall shrouded figure presented itself in the entrance way. Without so much as a 'by your leave' the cloaked stranger slid past the gap between the assassin and the doorframe, passing by Light without a word and continuing onward through the halls. Lights curiosity caught onto the stray wanderer as they passed; there was something not right about that person. 'Guchi appeared to have sensed something equally as strange, though his first reaction was to simply close the door before him in an almost polite fashion. That was when a slight tinkering noise caught his sensitive ears.

"Isn't that something?" Kneeling to the ground Kizuguchi picked something off the scarlet rugged floors, analysing it carefully still with that bemusing face cloth across his face. "It's gold."

"What are you talking about?" Light took a step and felt something crunch against the bottom of his shoe. Casting his sight down the tattered haired Yagami related to the ninja's tone of surprise, there was indeed gold, an entire trail of it, snaking out from below the door and coiling a path down the hall after the shrouded figure that had shuffled out and past a proceeding doorway. Arching his back and pressing a scratched and tattered trouser leg to the lush carpet the promising young Light scooped up a few chunks of the glittering metal, most of which were the size of a pebble and marked a steady trail.  
"That's rather unusual." Light proclaimed, scraping the valuable chunks into his pockets, not that he wished to keep them, rather there was something unappealing about leaving small chunks of money lying around. Noticing Kizuguchi's misplaced headband aside his head Light peered up, the older and seemingly more unusual young man was watching the distant wall of the hallway, some odd dozen doors away.

"I suspect we should follow it." Even before he finished the sentence Kizuguchi mocked a stride after the stranger, Light was uncertain whether to recognise his motives or the fact he referred to them as 'it' first, but regardless there were no other leads to follow, and as much as he resented to admit it, Light couldn't formulate a plan of his own. There was simply too much left unexplained. Submitting to his suggestion Light got to his feet, dispensed a few stray pieces of gold from his fingers and followed.

"You can't mean that." Cloud's mako blue eyes narrowed, golden locks falling before his face as a smarmy smile reflected off his pupils, etched in by the glow of firelight.

"The invitations have been sent." Kuro unlatched a bolt near the base of the cabinet table besides the heavily cushioned armchair, retrieving a small flask from inside alongside a fine crystal glass he placed atop the varnished surface. "The time is right, the games are set, and now it's time to play." Posing with a raised glass of what would now appear to be some rich whisky Kuro nodded his condolences as an un-amused Cloud scoffed, closed his eyes and stormed past him, Ryu did not look away from the fire until Strife reached the closest exit. L had already been staring for a while, but not until Cloud reached the doorway and opened his eyes did he recognise the obstruction. A black blob of a figure, like a hunched man in a complete cloak, stood in his path. In the place of eyes, two black markings for pupils on a plain white mask stared back at him; light violet stripes framed the sightless eyes, bringing the proud ex-SOLDIER grunt to an uncertain halt. The shuffling form didn't avert, instead it released a muffled noise and continued that carved smile. Another, equally as blank looking figure moved aside Cloud, Ryuzaki perched at his side with broad eyes drinking in the details of this inhuman form.

"Ah, No-Face." Now was Kuro's turn to clutch at Cloud's attention once more, L however continued to stare as the masked shroud turned its painted mug slowly across to meet those similarly creepy black pupils. "I assume you've brought the rest of our guests with you?" Ryu spoke behind the emptying glass. Without answer the ghostly form looked away from Ryuzaki and drifted forward, an arm like that of an overly long black sleeve extended and motioned to Cloud. With great reluctance and a questioning tilt of the head a hand was raised, a small array of glittering dust and small chunks of solid gold dropped into Cloud's gloved palm. Still without so much as a word 'No Face' as he was called glided across the room to the relaxing Kuro's side, it was an odd picture from Cloud's point of view. A retro fireside armchair, the aristocratic master in his smoking jacket, cradling a glass of liquor in his hand, the faithful dog at his side- granted No Face was more mask wearing spectre than dog, but the imagery was appreciated all the same. Feeling the rolling grit against the gloved fingers Cloud paid notice to the valuable glitter the phantom planted in his hand, only to notice a glove splayed with dirt.

"Can't buy much candy with that." The dozy voice sounded from over his shoulder, not that Cloud needed to turn around to know who it was, but still those creepy eyes on the back of his head sent a shiver through those fine golden locks. A disregarding grunt and the secluded Strife dusted off the hand against his shoulder guard, patting down the metallic wolf head on his upper arm which was still filled with dust and ash.

The continuous pile of unanswered questions was put on hold once the farthest set of heavy doors swung so somnolently wide. Heading the affront was the outside light, which seemed to pose so much stronger than that inside the secluded chamber. Following the stretch of golden carpet a high standing young man with startling red hair and thick collared blue shirt marched between the grand bookshelves and tore directly past Cloud and L with dramatic stride, slowing to a halt facing the back of the floating glob and his lax partner. With hard to distinguish enthusiasm the spiritual being turned its beaming mug to the rather less amused looking ninja, its movements were sluggish and its 'expression' hard to read, but this didn't seem to falter Kizuguchi one bit. Raising a semi-gloved fist Kizuguchi lifted his arm above No Face's head, opening his hand and letting a palm of dirt and muck pour down over the bleach white mask. 'Kiguchi's expression remained stone, however it was L who could have sworn that chiselled grin on the silent spectre shifted into a frown as it lowered its supposed head, the dust that once mocked the glimmer of gold slid through its non-physical form before the being known as No Face sailed forth past the onlookers and, eventually, out through the open doorway, wordlessly passing a watching Light who stood just beyond the doors. Once the helpless looking ghoul had passed the curious Yagami scooped his hands into his trousers, finding only dirt lining his pockets.

"Come on in Light my boy, everyone's now here who's supposed to be." Kuro's undisturbed voice beckoned him in, not that he was against perusing his goals, particularly under such out of hand conditions, however the last time people like the ninja and the blonde haired lad got together…things blew up. As Light entered the now slightly less crowded room Ryu placed down his glass and stood, the full splendour of his robes swaying gently as he walked across to the sofa.

"I can't say I believe it, but I had a suspicion you'd still be lurking." Even at Light's words Ryu nourished a satisfied hint of a smirk. It seemed such an informal setting, but aside from Kuro himself, everyone present only had a mind for talking business. "I think it's about time for some explanations." Light took priority of sitting in the centre of the wide sofa, stretching his arms out and crossing his legs in a similar style that Kuro himself had done. Regardless of whether Kizuguchi really could see him the lonely twin merely stood his ground, pursuing nor facing the pale haired young man with the peculiar dress sense- instead he allowed Light to begin the prosecuting. "Perhaps you can tell me why I've so far been threatened with sharp objects, on the brink of a five storey freefall, almost slathered along a collapsing highway and faced disintegrated by an atomic blast." With each disturbing factor Light recited his former partner Ryuzaki would count them off on his free hand, chewing seemingly mindlessly on his left thumb.

"Not part of the original plan, but it was entertaining intermission." This seemed to spark something off in Kizuguchi. Cloud, who had been staring blankly at the half empty glass of caramel coloured liquid, had to catch his guard as the crystal shattered, fractures of the glass spraying out as a weighty kunai blade imbed itself into the cabinet top. Systematically all eyes turned to 'Ziguchi, other than L whose saucer pupils kept vigilance on the arrogant man with the silver hair. Now on his defence Cloud placed a hand once more to his gauntlet, noticing something odd he made to inspect, however the events unravelling before him took sudden priority.

"Where is my brother?" The second kunai was drawn, held warningly with the blade facing away from Kuro but prepped in such a way for a fatal strike. Light didn't seem too stressed by the unexpected turn, but neither did Ryu. Granted he didn't seem quite as cocky as before. "You managed to summon us all back here, where is 'Ato?"

"Your brother is unharmed." The tension within that small room had surely broadened, but perhaps this stage was inevitable. Ryu Kuro seemed to realise this, he'd had his fun.

"I know that. I just want to know where he is." The demand was very forward, so much so that nobody cared to mention that the aim of a man with a blindfold was just as big a threat to anybody else in the room as Kuro- though they mutually understood it. It took no longer than a few prolonged heartbeats for the solemn smirk to lazily etch its way back onto Ryu's features. Retracting the stored pipe back from his dressing gown pocket the ever melancholy mystery man bit tenderly on its silver nib, gazing at Kizuguchi with an intrigued eye, and after a moment he seemed contented enough to speak.

"Your brother will be arriving, soon, but first there are other matters for us to attend- and Kizuato also." With that less than informative quote Ryu allowed his eyes to wander, rather carelessly walking past the offending blade and making a stroll back to the fireside. Across the top mantle were posed only a few figures: over the mantle a tall portrait defined a proud building surrounded by trees on a honey toned afternoon.

"So what happens now?" Cloud spoke up, watching the daydreaming Kuro pace past the farthest wall near the warmth of the prestigious fireplace. On the mantle place surface a smaller golden photo frame was poised- however there was no photograph, if there had been, it was long since removed. There was a third object, something difficult to distinguish from any more than five steps pace, however the parted reflection of the candle and firelight spoke of something shiny, something rather small, placed in a velvet lined box as one would expect to find a necklace or bracelet.

"Now? Well the afternoon is dragging; I'd say supper is in order." The unexpected statement was followed with a gesturing hand, the bemusing youth crossed past the tallest shelf to the opposing doorway, arching it out and looking back to the uncertain room. "You may wash up, I expect you in the dining hall within a half hour." With that he exited, leaving the remainder of the chamber struck, each posing his own style of puzzled glance. Light sat unchanged with only a raised eyebrow, L hunched over the side of the sofa gnawing his knuckle with Cloud holding his firm scowl at the erect ninja weapon emanating from the cabinet woodwork. Of all of them Kizuguchi had remained immobile throughout the event, merely lowering his weapon as Kuro left the room before falling in with the rest of them in silence. It didn't take long for the solitary Cloud to pass on the concept, straying out from the gathering through the closest door without even a motion to the rest of them. When Light stood from his over-comfy seat and made to cross the same path as the overdressed baron he spared the silent ninja a glance, seeming to pick up on it 'Ziguchi followed in his retreat. It had not been stated where the next meeting place was located inside this parallel dimension of a mansion, but at this point at least, there seemed no benefit in denying it. They would merely have to wait on fate.

All had left- all but for L. Craning his neck cautiously in the direction of each of the open doors L uncapped something from his hands, staring onto it with an almost hungry grin. Rested between his palms a radiant red orb shone.

In a more desolate plane of this unexplored world a similar bright sphere descended into its nightly rest, brining with it the gradual darkness. It had been no more than a small number of hours, though this had done much to falter Kizuato's enthusiasm for tracking down his long absent brother, or that spiky headed nuisance who had proven slightly harder to overpower than he expected. However, he hadn't left the fight empty handed. Shredding out of a low standing highway trail into one of the cities back-roads 'Zuato led his freshly caught bright crimson cycle on a frankly clueless trail through an otherwise deserted city. Most of the overly urban sanctuary followed a similar theme: big, messy, empty. It was as though some kind of civil war had broken out within its boundaries, and given the fact that the streets and those frequent battered buildings were very vacant, clearly nobody had won. Once Kizuato had cleared through the repetitive sequence of graffiti sprawled alleyways, most with very similar gang decal, the surprisingly agile clod of a vehicle began to show signs of fatigue- Zuato had been wondering how much fuel this foreign contraption would consume, if it used any at all. Lord knows what this kind of vehicle needed to keep moving, but he had to admit, kudos to the engineer.

"Damn it, to hell with the idiots who made this thing!" The fiery haired youth systematically ran through the various switches and dials clogging the instruments. "How difficult can these things be? You go forward, or you don't." With this beautiful analogy Zuato felt the lagging cycle come to a finale, sliding onward on the mere power of kinetic energy while the engine died out. With that single factor, Kizuato was on foot. The winds had been picking up as the sun fell; his short sleeved black shirt flickered around his waist, tapping against the steel plate on his headband of a belt. Shrugging off the weight of the husky bike the now hindered ninja strode out into open grounds, he found himself in what seemed to be a common square- around him a flat area paved with mahogany coloured bricks surrounded a broad fountain with numerous chairs and benches scattered around it, despite the fountain displaying not a trickle, and quite a few chairs on their side, despite having nails in the bottom. There was also a large symbol painted in red paint- hopefully- in the large empty space. 'Rebirth', it read, a typical trait for vandals during a war, or perhaps even a civil revolution.

"Where the hell is this place?" Taking steps into the centre of this once peaceful and perhaps romantic site, surrounded by buildings scattered with dead and unlit neon, the wayward ninja couldn't help but experience what this place must once have been, it must have once been a cosy and festive place, probably rather lively in its time. Now though it was as dead as any of the tombstone toned city surrounding it, the impressive left a figurative shiver trembling at the bottom of Kizuato's spine. There was only one thing that posed motion, behind a short wall that outlined the wide park area surrounding the corpse of a fine water attraction there was a flicker. It was hard to notice while there was still a little dwindling light; however the night had consumed enough of the zombie utopia for the dance of firelight to shine. With gradual steps Kizuato approached the slumped wall, light usually meant people- and from what he'd seen so far, the people here didn't mean safety. Patting down his kunai holster on his right leg 'Zuato grunted under his breath, his primary weapon had gone, he realised he must have lost it while struggling the blue eyed stranger from his vehicle- not that it really mattered, his hands were more than capable of defending him in the past. As he closed in he realised that behind the sloped wall there were steps, most of which had been broken away, which turned to the left into something of an enclosed walkway. Glancing around the wall side the young ninja realised the luring glow was emitting from around that corner and down the enclosed walkway, it must have been something of a luxury attraction while it was being used, it connected to the building besides it and was constructed mostly of glass- almost all of which was shattered away of greatly fractured. Not relying on some friendly encounter the closer he came to the light, 'Zuato gazed up to the building directly before him. From the looks of it, the place was once a bar, or maybe a night club. Didn't see many of those were Kizuato came from. The sun was low enough now to be eclipsed by even the smallest of the buildings, the night was almost here, and while that didn't do much to hinder the blind ninjas vision there was no telling who or what could emerge once the sun came down. Kicking off from the flat ground the swift ninja came into contact with the vertical surface of the stubby building, his chi made quick work of the topside surface and almost immediately Kizuato was perched in a crouching position, looking down the back of the structure into what appeared to be an outside café area out back, it would have been a fine glass complex, had it not looked like a grenade had gone off inside- Wouldn't be that surprising, really.

From his crows nest the watching ninja paid attention only to the empty metal bin nested in the centre of the trashed structure, inside the can a mass of broken chairs, tables and lord knows what else released a gentle fire that illuminated the shrouded walkways that led out from the opening at either side, not that it mattered when neither had walls or a roof any longer. Besides the crackling can a single figure sat on one of the battered old café chairs, crouched forward to the fire without making a sound or a motion. Without regards to his lack of vision the overlooking shadow of the hunched ninja observed but for a moment before he stood to full height. The stranger didn't move.

_Clearly this one isn't much of a ninja. _A slip of a cocky grin and the red headed assassin jolted from the slanted granite rooftop, soundlessly even descending through the night air, until gravity played its part and the rash Kizuato came to a sudden landing onto one of the broken-legged tables close by. With a starling crack the hunched form slashed a hand under a red splay of flaring material, followed with only a glint of metal and the immediate blare as a battalion of bullets tore through the lopsided table- leaving it in two roughly cut pieces. The barrel of the slick silver handgun rested in place for a moment, pouring small trails of smoke from its tip, until, very slowly, the man in the long blood red jacket slipped the firearm back to his lap.

"Looked like a 'Nobody'…" With the under-breath grunt the hunched figure turned his eyes back to the fire, still with his hand on the now warm handgun. Even though he spoke in more of a tired whisper, keen ears were listening closely. Stroking a rough hand through delicate snow white hair Dante, the legendary son of the Dark Knight Sparda, sat in the presence of a tender firelight, contemplating silently the unexplained questions.

"Where is the target?" The tall young man with the long silvery hair and billowing long-sleeved jacket was situated in the back of an inconspicuous flatbed truck, his rich blue eyes closed as though they might shine out through the midnight and give away his position. Perched between his chin and shoulder was a two way transceiver.

"Not far now, just up ahead." The voice coming through the walkie-talkie was that of the driver, who was keeping a vigilant eye on their prize. "Two accompanying vehicles."

"Demons?" Dante had his back to the rear of the trucks open platform, placed in strategic position until his partner gave the word. He had to wait a few moments before a female voice responded.

"Humans." He had been afraid of that. Devils and monsters he could take down without a hitch, but he wasn't contracted to kill anything else- even a dog would cause him too much trouble; he'd rather a soul sucking spectre any day. The roads were almost deserted, still, given the local area- anyone you came across on these roads was either smuggling or transporting something illegal; the perfect place for kidnapping victims without raising suspicion. "Target is coming up on right." Dante opened his eyes, how like his mothers they were, a fact he would always be proud to remember. The demon hunter grasped the handle of his broad tipped sword, how like his father he seemed right now- a fact that would forever haunt him. Up on the right he could see a black Hummer, the windows shaded out, gradually coming up besides them. This must be the vehicle of the beast he was contracted to, and as the truck gained speed and took the lead before it, Dante pressed his thick dusky boots against the grate and launched, without opportunity to look before leaping in case he gave away his position, either way if they hadn't noticed him before, they sure as hell would have now. Taking a broad groundless step Dante left the back of the humble truck and soared with his great blade raised toward the approaching vehicles. The head car waved off to the left with reactions that could now have been expected of a human, and considering the other two cars seemed to be surrounding the less than commercial vehicle, the hunter was certain of his prey. Missing the first car Dante was coming down towards fast approaching road below. With a thud of twisting metal Dante landed hard on the approaching vehicle that had been covering the targets rear, the white haired mercenary now stood confident as though on stable ground with his arm lunged forward through the blacked out windscreen. The cars engine softened as though the accelerator had been released- however Dante had not aimed at the driver, on contrary his sword had protruded through the dashboard at such an angle he was certain in the least the wheel would have been retarded. He wasn't being paid to kill humans- that would cost extra. No sooner had the disabled the vehicle than the car lunged off to the right, grinding dangerously along the side rails. However by the time the lack of control motor had came into a fatal lock with the defensive car before it with a warping crunch the poised acrobat had left his position, tearing away most of the cars bonnet as he forced the thick sword from the window. The glass storm tattered against the rear of the broad hummer, the reflection of the overhead lights giving the illusion of raining sparks, and the shimmer of yellow glare running across the blade of Dante's formidable Rebellion sword signed the assassination contract as it came down over the top of the bulking black vehicle. Then came something the devil hunter hadn't anticipated.

"Shit." With his sword posed to strike Dante realised, with leg raised to land on the hummers spacious head, that the blacked out sunroof had been fractured into an undeniably open position, with the upper torso of a man- wearing a deep coloured jacket with odd tassels matching that blowing moonlit silver hair- lording out to face him. Dante came down, his boot coming just near enough to the hummers roof, when those colourless merged through into a venomous scarlet that caught into Dantes' vision, burning the demonic pupils into his mind as a wicked smirk caught him back into reality.


	6. Blood and Bullets

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

**Stage Six – Blood and Bullets**

"Then I was here." With the finale Dante leant forward, picking a firm stone from the ground before him and flicked it against the steel drum a few steps away. The rolling tremble of the flaring bin echoed out through the back alleys as the last of the daylight died off. The echo's faded down just as the silence of the vacant city was intruded by an eerie dull buzz, which faded in through the empty panels of the once glass walls and raised the beautiful sky blue eyes of a far lost half-blood. As Dante lifted his head to the skies he noticed the stars were indolently reaching down, with no struggle posed by the usual light pollution of populated cities. As the bright lamps of heaven emerged they seemed to spread out and down, then they came across the ground itself. As Dante watched he realised it was not the earthly invasion of the stars, but that the distant building lights were gradually coming into life, each and every one across the city, looming systematically towards his position until the artificial wave of light passed overhead- all around the timid square the multicolour rainbow of neon lights sparked into fruition. Dante rose from his slump to look out over the building tops at the luminous garden of mock starlight. The lights remained, but the vibrant buzzing withered out, and as they did the youngest son of Sparda caught the distinct crunch as the thrown pebble was shattered. What he did not sense however was the thick hide of the black boot sandals, the flick of the crimson locks as a tall young man stopped a mere step behind him, or the blinded eyes that could see past vision itself boring into the back of his skull.

Of all the things that could have been expected, aside from pretty much all else up to that point, the chosen Yagami Light would never have anticipated prepping up for a meal with such unwanted company. A ninja, a relentless freak, what would appear to be a ghost, and that more than bothersome detective- whatever happened to the others he wasn't sure, gratefully though he may not have to be introduced to more abominations this night. There was also the matter of the quiet blonde one.

_He seems to be the sanest of the lot. _Light ran his hands under the glistening silver tap, flicking his pupils to the lengthy mirror before him. To his right stood Cloud Strife, who was removing his glove to clean up his hands and gritty forearms, for some reason the slim but muscular stranger hadn't shown any signs of resistance since arriving, which was surprising, given what Light could remember from that damned crater. Keeping a pressing eye on the unarmed mercenary Light had given a rare spark of thought to their environment; as of so far every section of this extensive mansion palace that they had found themselves was condemned to blind luxury, even the bathrooms were enough for a decent game of basketball, if the pesky sub-rooms weren't there. Light had never been in such an elaborate lavatory before, he could only assume they contained personal showers and baths, one of which had a thick lock and latch over the door- someone had a strong will of their privacy.

"I don't suppose you could tell me why I'm dining with the devil?" The over analysing teen wasn't so much attempting to pry answers, more so to open up a dialogue. At least by making some mutual connection any information he so very doubted they possessed that may arise in future would, with any hope, reach him also. As undesirable as it seemed to put on a social face for these people, this warrior clearly had some powers that, much as a certain notebook lost somewhere in another world, were not of natural source.

"Can't help you." Cloud retaliated, scrubbing off his dirt-clad fingers. With a shrugging notion the man with eyes as cold as his shoulder snatched up his glove and adjusted it accordingly, withdrawing across what Light at first glance assumed to be a pure white marble flooring before shoving past the hefty double doors. With a copious sigh the coffee haired Yagami spaced his arms out across the sink and lowered his head, gripping the sides of the opposing sinks as he raised tested eyes to meet their mirrored counterpart.

"My kingdom for a note." His growls, though personal, were carefully worded; he couldn't afford risking anything regardless of situation or location. He doubted rather much that L would be leaning over the wooden wall at the far end, which he suspected covered some kind of indoor hot tub area, but he knew well enough by now not to write anything out from that vigilant detective's method.

_The least I can do is take solace in the fact that, while here, 'Ryuzaki' has more pressing matters to wrack his brain with than my subtlest of actions. Still…I dare not relax. I've underestimated that wide-eyed bastard before; I can't afford to make that same mistake…_

"More cake, please." Before he received an answer the fork was in the filling. The 'vigilant' detective stalked in pace with the rather distressed black ghost, who was in the business of floating from the kitchen doors to the dining room hosting plates of lord in heaven knows what- Ryuzaki only paid attention to that which was as sweet as puppy love- armed with a fork that was liberated from a lonely looking Knickerbocker Glory. The ghoul only moaned but continued its trek, with the sweet toothed detective tracking him expertly all the way, taking his samples where seemed necessary.

"One of my favourites, that." The voice was lingering on L's shoulder. Picking the long ice cream flute off the tray Ryuzaki came to a halt and shifted his broad pupils back onto the familiar smirk. Ryu Kuro's bemusing dress sense seemed to be continuing, for now the pretty faced young man was suited up in something much like a military uniform- completely black and with bands of red across the cuffs, the shoulders and sewn around the golden buttons down the centre. The dark jacket was highly decorated in gold thread and had some professional looking badges that L himself was unfamiliar with, however one did look like a bronze eagle. Kuro's long black trousers and boots, decorated with expensive looking golden buckles, matched into his unsettling outfit- along with the dark generals peak cap resting on his golden head. For a moment Ryuzaki was about to mention what his outfit reminded him of, however saw it better not to mention in case the host took offence. Disregarding his presence entirely, L returned his loving gaze to his mound of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla whipped ice cream pudding. A white-gloved hand placed itself gently on Ryuzaki's shoulder, causing the detectives eye to drift.  
"Come now, save yourself for the feast my good man." Kuro's chuckling would have put any weaker man off his pudding. So far the glint of amusement from this strange man had meant nothing but dismay for his little collaboration of prisoners.

"Does your ghost make tea?" L asked, ignoring Ryu's presence and stalking off after the wandering charcoal glob, the ice cream glass already licked clean. Ryu shook his head in amusement, before tipping his cap and wandering back down the candle-laden kitchen hallway.

No sooner had Dante felt the presence than the smooth edge of the blade lunged to his throat, that short knife-like object that the devil hunter managed by a fraction to catch with the barrel of his bright silver gun. Keeping his grip the white haired half-breed wrestled to keep the fatal edge from his neck, even though he could not hear the strange creature behind him it was clear there was much struggle between them; he had yet to meet a lesser demon that could meet him in terms of strength. He noticed the swift movement, the blade was held by only one hand and without warning that second arm came to assist, this one without a weapon but clearly intended for Dante's throat. Without time to arm himself with a second firearm the youngest Sparda child clutched at the hand with immense reflex, catching its grip only a hair from his throat before both straining forces flared off and the assaulting stranger was flung practically over Dantes head, kicking off from his shoulder blades and into a grand leap before vanishing over the high wall into that deserted courtyard overhead.

Regaining his step the young man with the lengthy scarlet coat kept a tight gloved hand over the handle of his gun, the other sliding across his back, out of sight, to the handle of his beastly sabre. All the while watching that line where the black of the stone wall met the deep blue of the nightly midst. Keeping a slow pace Dante's thick dirt coated boots clicked the paved ground as he marched the length of the segregating wall, hand sporting his weapon, eyes tracking any signs of movement against the luminous artificial twilight. There was an insignificant rustle in the air, something distant and blacked out against the night sky. Dante's feet carved firm to the ground, watching without hesitation to the slightest bustle. The brightest of the distant lights shone in his direction- a blind spot.

Knowing the dance of combat the young devil hunter swept his blade from under his un-done jacket, narrowly evading his own chest as the curved metal carved through the air, twisting between his fingers into a mighty slash. There was a splitting clash as something struck. A fine sharpened kunai vaulted up into the air, deflected perfectly from the rough edge of the deadly 'Rebellion' sword. This assassin was clearly no slouch in combat, had Dante not identified his line of vulnerability…well, Dante was never one for such impossible hypothetical situations.

A jet black shape bolted overhead, like a vicious bird in a predatory swoop, catching the twirling instrument before blending into the overhead lights and vanishing once again. This beast reminded Dante of the 'Msira', which he'd had the unwelcome pleasure to encounter a few times on the secluded isles- Deep purple to black gargoyle like beasts that scaled walls and festered in ruinous places. This thing though, whatever it was, seemed more human in form to the Msira, though it still seemed to hold some demonic powers.

"Do we really have to keep playing around like this?" Dante called out. Somewhere on the buildings slanted rooftop a lone tile slid and cracked against the brick patterned floor. With a smug lip young Dante faced up to the rooftops, there didn't seem to be anything there, so chances are he was on the right track. "C'mon, show some balls." Their cramped arena grew silent still, only the constant buzz of the frayed electric cables kept Dante in any company, along with the gentle whirl of his treasured blade as he span the sword around in one hand. "You call yourself a devil? My pa would be ashamed."

Each slight trace of Dante's movement was under observation, every insignificant twitch flowing into the vibration of the air, forming a hazing whirl of blue and white that constructed the detailed the phantom sight of the concealed ninja. The 'Juubun Joukei no Jutsu', or 'Perfect Sight Technique', allowed Kizuato the mighty sense of motion- being able to see in perfect and explicit detail through vibration and motion, even that of air particles bouncing off walls- rather like a complex sonar. The high level of light pollution in this section of the dead city made for some irritating distorting, but still the cocky movements and taunts of this unusual creature didn't make for difficult tracking.

"The people here just keep getting weirder…" The younger of the Buraindo twins cocked his head at the young mans swordplay, certainly he wasn't your common warrior, but hadn't this fellow ever heard of stealth? The flow of his movements seemed to dominate everything. One of the advantages of discipline is that even when an enemy is staring you in the face, you can be practically invisible, although his sterner brother Kizuguchi was a bit more in touch with discipline than himself. Taking opportunity where it came the fiery haired 'Ato allowed the gunslinger to lower his weapon and avert his eyes- for but an instant- from his own hiding place, kicking off from the practically vertical surface on which he had been so still perched Kizuato swept the now dented kunai as the white of the snow haired mans eyes caught with his own concealed pupils. The red coat flared up, the two figures became suddenly cloaked as a twirl and a clash came into fruition. A piercing grind of metal on metal coaxed the two weapons to give way and depart from one another, a rough grapple and the crimson swirl weighed down as the blade of the Rebellion Sword struck the cinder loaded can, sending it with shattering speed into what little remains of the fractured window-walls surrounded their low arena. Darting his sharp features to all sides Dante found that his foe had vanished literally under his nose.  
"Slimy bastard!" His teeth snapped, the canines of unnatural length as a flame licked behind his eyes before calming, the devil urging itself forth backing down as the rage subsided. This being, demon or not, was not worth wasting such fierce energy.

_This beast isn't worth my other techniques…_Kizuato thought, looking directly down on the devil hunter. He gave a brief smirk, at which point Dante's eyes shot wide noticing the deformed shadows cast by the lights surrounding overhead, casting his sight up to find himself staring into the eyes of another warrior, merely an inch or less from one another. Kizuato hit the floor before Dante's sword hit the low support rafter, part of the main beam in fact, at which point the essential support structure was immediately cut short; the two sections of the main beam slid perfectly past one another without any friction as the ninja contacted the ground and separated from it into a mighty reflex of jumps, the once fine pine supports snapping off from one another as the weight of the beam shifted to one side. Dante and Kizuato's blade kept continuous contact, with no less than an instant between strikes. Complex combinations of jabs, twirls and stabs that deflected from one another in an ever building aura of tense friction. The loose grit and wood around their feet was swept skyward at the harder collisions, which sent the two figures spiralling away from one another before kicking off the ground once more and meeting with incredible force in mid-air. For one brief moment, as the longer and shorter blades kissed, and the warriors leapt into the sky to meet forces, the collision was equal enough to suspend them only for an instant where they drifted- yet this instant spaced out dramatically as their sights met. While Dante saw nothing in the shrouded material over the young assassin's eyes, Kizuato could see, in a sea of blue and blur, that building spark in Dante's own pale blue pupils. As they kept for such a short space of time in that position, the rafters finally gave way to the shattered roofing overhead, constructed now of only broken wooden supports and the spots of chipped glass, but still this sudden artificial rain did not slow their battle as the two broke away, pushing off from one another with a mighty force. As they departed the shatters of glass that had not already broken from the skyline came down to earth, like snow made of rough diamonds that glinted brightly in the neon light until the two combatants pressed down on the ground. That was when the grace of their aerial ballet was shocked to a halt, thunder, it seemed, broke their dance. Thunder that broke from the barrel of a smoking silver gun.

It was on the sixth hour that the assembly finally took place. Light Yagami adjusted the red tie of his flax cream suit as he stood before the double doors. The trim around its edges were curled into an almost ivy pattern, and there were two golden handles where the two met. He was confident that this, being the third door he'd attempted on this floor, was the kitchen- mainly because there was a trail of melted ice cream that led him like the strawberry sauce brick road. He'd have to thank Ryuzaki for the hint later; it didn't take a master detective to work this one out.

"Staring at the door, Light-Kun?" The tie slipped off his neck as his pupil twitched, Light Yagami was standing before the kitchen doors with an expression of pure jittering discomfort as the slouching detective stared up at him through hounding pupils as he pressed the oversized Knickerbocker spoon against his lips.

"That's funny Ryuzaki," Light turned his head to show his carefree smile, his eyes closed to hide that persistent twitch as he laughed, "I could have sworn you'd left the ice cream trail here for me." The misplaced college student sorted out his tie with one hand as he patted the investigative genius on the shoulder. Ryuzaki made note of the slightly higher than average force he used.

"The ice cream?" He questioned, looking down to the floor. There was indeed a dried trail leading down the hall, rather pink in colour as it contrasted in tone with the deep maroon carpet. "That isn't ice cream," L muttered, chewing on the end of the spoon with that look of absent mindedness "That's blood Yagami-Kun."

At first Light merely scoffed at him, he would have noticed if it had been blood. Still, Ryuzaki was never one to make jokes, so the intuitive young man couldn't resist craning his neck down to the slight pool that had built up and dried close to his feet. Indeed, on closer inspection, it was darker than he'd originally noticed. Still, it wasn't dark enough to be blood, at least, not blood on its own. Ryuzaki had already taken on his uncomfortable looking pose, crouching to the ground and looking across the trails. Light tilted his head, keeping one hand on the door handle as L inspected the odd concoction that had stained into the expensive looking carpet.

"This is very odd indeed." The man in the tattered jeans spoke up, prodding the substance with the long spoon. Light could only hope he wouldn't be popping that back into his mouth now, "I don't usually handle forensics, but I'd say this looks like blood and…melted flesh." Now that was a pleasant statement to hear before dinner. Clearly this pink trail was not quite what Light had expected.

"Y-you don't say?" Light couldn't hide the grimace, as if things in this place weren't strange enough, now people were melting on their way to the kitchen!?

"That's probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen." The twitch was back in full force, at this rate Light himself would be suffering a heart attack, and with no help from a Shinigami's journal at that.

"Third for me." L muttered to himself, scooping and prodding the nasty fluids with the silver spoon. "This is far from normal." He chimed, even still, he kept one eyes locked on Light's expression.

_He doesn't think I did this does he? _Light could feel the instincts of Kira seeping back into him, that deductive reason and tension locking between the two of them as the game of suspicion began to emerge, _is he that sceptical of me?_

Turning his head away from the stomach churning sight, as well as the nasty looking spill on the floor, Light twisted attention back on the heavy doors ahead, at least by walking through into the gaggle of insanity he could avoid L's questioning looks over the ever-building strange events of this mental house. What he wasn't expecting was to look up into the black slit eyes of the resident spirit.

"…you again." Yagami mused, not sounding the least bit startled. After all, he'd gotten used to creepy black eyes by now. "If you'll excuse me." He muttered, pulling on the handle and beckoning the heavy mahogany doors through the spirits body, poor No-Face let out a distressed cackle as Light swept past him into the chambers before them. Ryuzaki remained behind to inspect the globs on the carpet, it wasn't a pretty sight in the least, but it seemed as though something had been dragged across the carpet. Perhaps someone had taken care of one of their fellow prisoners and commenced to drag them through these halls. Maybe Kuro had more planned for them than met the eye? Also, it was rather disturbing that the trails led to the kitchen…

Past the doorway Light Yagami regained his posture, it seemed that whenever he and L came together something unexpected was bound to happen, and thus it only seemed right he avoided the older man when possible. Now he found himself in very different company, the larger hand was already hitting ten past as he entered, he was a little late but still he hadn't expected most people to arrive at all- if only they had a choice in this blasted place. He was certain everyone had searched for some escape route; however there didn't seem to be any feasible way out of the floor they were on, let alone the building complex! It was all so confusing.

"Ah, better late than never there, Light." The voice came from asides the doorway, why was everyone making sure to approach him from behind? Adjusting the collars of his jacket and putting on a total scene of nonchalant before stepping back casually, taking in the frankly more startling sight.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Light questioned, pausing his jacket tinkering for a moment as Ryu passed into the kitchen from a side corridor close by the main double doors, where it led Light would have to make a mental note. There must be a way out of this disturbing mansion, or this universe, for that matter. Kuro chuckled to himself as he made an exaggerated spinning pose, displaying his black and stylish military ensemble.

It seemed for a moment as though nothing had shifted between them. Although the albino haired half-blood could not catch Kizuato's eyes they never shifted, Kizuato's own sight, no matter how they worked, had not faltered for a second. The shot was fired without warning, their battle cut short, it hadn't been expected. He hadn't expected him to use such a weapon. The gun barrel still smoking, that confident smile brimming at his lips, their conflict fell into a one way confusion.

Kizuato threw down the gun.

Dante scoffed in an almost amused fashion, placing a hand over his chest and feeling that warm trail pass across the material of his open jacket- the blood flow had already stopped, the mark had worn away almost instantly, but the blood left at the would-be lethal pressure point allowed 'Ato to acknowledge he'd hit the target.

"Those are some skilled hands you've got there." Dante patted down his jacket, under the inlay the holster on his left side was unsurprisingly light. His other handgun, Ebony, with its metal sheen as black as Yang, was still rest snugly in its place. Its freshly fired counterpart, Ivory, steamed against the brick clad ground.

"It's my profession." Kizuato couldn't help but smile; it seemed that their little spat had suddenly run itself dry. "I'm looking for my brother." The ninja in the black shirt rubbed his gloved hand across the thin blade of his kunai, keeping it in sight to prove he wasn't about to double-cross this worthwhile new opponent, there was a gash in the direct centre where their blades had first clashed.

"What a coincidence." Dante shifted his broader weapon into its suited compartment along his back, opening the collar of his jacket and showing off the blank skin underneath. Kizuato watched, not quite picking up on what kind of story he was trying to put across, was something supposed to be there around his neck that wasn't? "I get the feeling…I am too."

"If we're quite through with this." Light placed a finger to his temple, eyes clenched and facing the floor. Despite his usual mask of innocence and trust, the cover was beginning to fray under these situations. Whatever purpose they had been brought here for had yet to reveal itself, and yet this mental and rather stylishly challenged ghoul was determined on maintaining their suffering in this damned place. The only motivation Light could hold to at this point was the fact that by staying in the company these abominations he was far more likely to discover the truth behind what was going on- as well as how to better deal with Ryuzaki, who seemed to be conducting investigations on his own.

"Well then, I suppose we should continue. I believe it's almost time for the rest of the guests to arrive…" At this Kuro waltzed past the now suspicious Yagami, he checked the face of the great grandfather clock that rested close by the door, at the end of a long fireplace at the short end of the hall, the coals were neatly stacked and seemed unused, unlike the one in Ryu's study. The lighting in the room was something different from the corridors outside, from the moment of entering it was as though Light had encountered Kuro in a poorly lit alleyway. Perhaps it was the fact this place was dominantly lit by candles, where Light was more used to the comfort of electricity in his home. Perhaps that was hard to come by here, off the deep end.

Tapping the glass surface of the clock Ryu seemed pretty reassured it hadn't stopped; something was making the young man impatient. Light simply scoffed and turned his head away, his own patience was wearing dangerously thin. This entire charade was really straining at this point; perhaps the entire unreality of the scenario was creeping up on him. Pressing his fingers to the surface of the table as he walked, Light staked across the length of the grand sized dining feature, which was a very deep coloured wood that seemed to blend in with the dark stone paving underfoot. The entire dining room seemed like something from the old Victorian era, not something Light was accustomed to having lived in a cramped and organised section of Japan for all his life, however it was something he had read about both in fact and literature for many years. Far overhead the glass ceiling certainly added some form of atmosphere and modernisation- it was much as the great dome structures one would find in a Sultan's palace.

Of course he and Ryu were not the only presences within the chamber. Near the farther end of the lengthy antique table another shadowy figure sat with both his feet up on its varnished surface, some dozen steps down the table from where Light paced. It was hard to believe one lone lunatic could require such accommodations. The thick boots on the mans feet became apparent as they slipped from the darkness as Light approached, in both the literal and figurative sense as the young Yagami was carrying with him a candle he had picked from one of the table holders. The long brown boots were familiar, Light recalled looking down at a marble bathroom floor and seeing them encrusted with all forms of dirt and sand, and yet they were immaculately clean at this point. Lifting the candle to the more unlit side of the feasting surface Yagami found the staring blue eyes of the mercenary analysing him, whose pupils braced as the light rose to his pale features as the gloved hand snapped to protect his vision with a stifled grunt. Both his legs rested up on the table as he leant back in his fine decaled seating chair, with deep red velvet lining and golden studs. Still, Cloud showed no remorse in testing the polished legs durability by leaning back to the point it crackled lightly under his slim frame.

"Looks like someone got cleaned up." Light cracked, his eyes still set on the prettied and polished condition of his footwear. The rest of Cloud's dark blue ensemble was pretty well lifted from the grave condition it was previously in, and only when Light actually glanced up to his contorted face did he lower the candle holster he held in his left hand. "Oh right, my apologies." The melancholy tone gave presence to Light's blatant stress- in contrary the elder Strife kept his cool exterior in check as he lowered his hand onto the side of the table and kicked down his feet onto the stone floor. Light had begun to pull out a chair as Cloud departed his seat, standing in the dim illumination with his toxic blue eyes on the boy. At the head of the chamber table, before the unlit fireplace some short distance from the glow of the moving candle, Ryu sat with hand on chin, a tested expression on his suspiciously gritty features. Shrouded in the dark, Kuro watched the pair's exchanges of inspective glances, all the time casting his glittering azure lenses to that blank staring clock face. It would take the Buraindo twins to seek out the hands on that face however.

"I just came to find some answers, from him." Cloud pointed his leather gloved finger across the dinning hall into the shadows some short distance away, through the blinding haze Light could briefly catch a glimpse from the candlelight's reflection on something where he assumed Ryu's chest would be- he wasn't wearing a necklace or a chain when he saw him briefly before. "However now you're here, I suppose that won't be happening." Even as he said this Yagami made the assumption this fellow simply didn't appreciate company, as the heavy combat boots crunched into the ground on departure Light watched cautiously, still holding the candle in his hand. The sixth hour had passed already, and yet as the farthest doors slid briefly open before closing with a hefty thud, there was left within the chamber no more than the two teenage males with the piercing glares. Lowering his head and staring into the flicker of the golden candle, Light Yagami considered whether following this farce would lead him anywhere, before pressing his fingers into the wick.


	7. Demons Alike

**Ultimate Heroes 2007**

**Stage Seven- Demons Alike**

The streets of Neo-Tokyo were a desolate place in any sense of it. The mocking glare of neon street signs gave a false life to the world of dead concrete and metal- such a grand magistrate of architecture on a floating island, devoid of its population, acting only as a colossal labyrinth lit through sickly yellow and red aura dotting the roads and buildings. One of the most mistreated of the streets in the district of the Neo-Tokyo slum districts was out to the South, across past the monster highway that split through Neo-Tokyo's underbelly and led out into an abrupt dead end in the wastes. This gangland street in particular was a hotspot for black trafficking, the exchange of weapons and drugs in the areas of this modern city that even the law cared nothing for. The buildings in the new Ota-ku area would have been abandoned even had the population of the city not evaporated- most where simply used as gang outposts for the social garbage that inevitably found its way here. The roads were so distraught they could be classed as rural terrain, and the entirety of this badlands street was drowned in the provocative art of mainstream graffiti. Lost in this formidable under-ladder of society were numerous fronts, mostly drugs dealerships, but some took on a more ambitious forte for their business- one of the most recognised was an assassination business working within the area, however it had never been revealed to the public, much as the 'across the wastes' transportation company that would deliver their less lawful clients into Europe or Korea for a substantial fee.

One cartel in particular however was a simple bar near an apartment terrace, the pub worked locally and publicly, however it was also widely known as a dealership hotspot. The landlord had connections. That was some time ago though, and now the entire front was in ruins, following some unexplained massacre.

Both buckled tables cracked forcefully under the weight, despite being held between the sieges of rubble for so long. The lighting, much as any other part of the city, had been cut down- the only source of illumination was that of the neon blare, which entered through the terrible gash running through the wall, and the door which held onto the frame only by a screw or two, and through the slanted gap past the warped hinges, something skulked drearily through the murderous wreck.

A shadowed hand passed lazily across the gritty woodwork of the pub bench, as the soundless figure stalked into the mess. Such formidable destruction in such secluded quarters, and buckled against the shattered wall of the complex, strewn out in a pitiful position and digging into the mesh of destruction, a corpse with a ghastly look of frozen horror breaking its contorted face. The stranger stood to a still before the haunting stare, the eyes glaring up through white pupils at the lording figure. At the side of this mangled shape, a jukebox with scarred face stood as possibly the last remaining fixture that had not been torn to shreds- Such terrible wrath.

The one standing amidst the chaos had not caused this. Snaking his hand through his hair, the stranger cracked his eyes open to the musical machine, it reminded him so of someone, and he knew that someone was close, they must be. Gliding a gloved hand down past his hip the shadowed presence wrapped his fingers so cautiously. Before they even clutched firm, a valiant swing, a piercing glide, and the object was returned to its place at his side. With a dreading whirl, the machine came to life.

_Praised to my father…  
…Blessed by the water…_

The sullen individual had seen all he had expected, that the one he was seeking, they were not here. Turning his head aside he glanced out through the gouge in the closest wall, asides the door. It leaked out into the night, giving view to the stairway just outside of the bar door that led back into the abandoned streets of Neo-Tokyo.

_…Black night, dark skies…  
_

The haunting melody trailed after him as the stranger made past the barrage of crumbled stools and the wrecked pinball machine that lay sprawled out across the tiled flooring. Touching a hand onto the face of the ruined doorway, the frame gave way and the entrance slid carelessly into the rubble coating that threatened to consume the stranger's boots. Without a gesture of notice the stalking one stepped across the fallen door and vanished seamlessly into the abyss of the Neo-Tokyo underbelly. As the shadow faded out into the darkness, the buzzing jukebox began to flicker and its lights fade out, as the frame of the lonesome fixture split diagonally through, and slid apart.

_The Devils cry!_

"I'm getting the impression you're not quite what I suspected." Dante's courteous words were illustrated by his testing smirk, his face wasn't far from Kizuato's own, and the temptation to tear off that annoying rag was almost too much. His arm angled dynamically, Dante sported his lengthy blade close to his own chin.

"I hear that one a lot." 'Zuato matched him with a cheeky grin, bearing his dangerous looking canines. Dante had to admit, he was expecting something like fangs, or the usual demon tricks of the trade. Kizuato was also gripping his blade, the kunai held at a conspicuous angle just before his neck. As opposed to Dante, Kizuato was not standing.

The two blades were pressed against one another, Dante with his feet posed against the grit and the dirt, while the trickster ninja posed perfectly in balance overhead, supporting himself at a downward angle with one hand clutching the seething kunai.

"You gonna tell me how you can see with that dishtowel on your face?" Despite Dante's shifting weight on the blade the kunai managed to keep perfect impact on the pressure zone. Kizuato's arm was still close to his side and his legs remaining in place, giving the ninja the impression of a frozen downward missile. Had either of them taken their natural, or hereditary, vision from their locking conflict- they would have realised that the fluctuating shadows were the cause of the artificial lights, the rainbow of sickly neon colours, flickering and dying in places as though their very energy was being influenced. The energy parasite was leaking through the system, the flux of lights and dance of the Tokyo shadows reaching out, and intruding on their battle stance.

The motion was first noticed by Dante, who could spot the distant sparkle of lights out across the tall buildings of the city past the floating assassin's spiky head. Far sooner than expected though, that slight crack of the neck told Dante those invisible eyes were no longer focused on him, but on the spasm of the shadows below- The opportunity for a lethal strike while he was vulnerable, otherwise this fatal dance could last all night. With a nimble break of movement, and fierce and precise swipe, Dante landed it perfectly.

He caught the fabric of Kizuato's bandana with his other hand.

"Let's see those devils eyes!" Making a harsh tug on the mask the devil hunter made to remove it, however Kizuato didn't need to be watching to anticipate his vulnerable moment would be exploited, though he hadn't quite expected that reaction. His other hand jolting from his side, the topside ninja shifted the barrel of a long black handgun right into Dante's face- his own- Ebony. Without stalling for a breath the swift ninja pulled the trigger and lodged a bullet through Dante's head, causing the young man to recoil and fall back without grace to the stone underfoot. Brushing his short blade across the edge of Dante's own Kizuato forced space between the two of them with a mighty thrust, forcing the two conflicting powers apart and leaving the Buraindo brother to spiral some space into the air before landing on one palm, still in his reversed angle, staring ahead as the second son of Sparda dropped alongside his tumbling blade.

After a deathly moment, when the streetlights flicked and died in unison of their distant brethren, there came a movement from the huddled red mess on the ground. A blooded hand raised and pulled back the long crimson coat shrouding his face, before craning his back into a sitting position opposite Kizuato. Dragging a red stained hand across his face, the mess of blood leaking down from Dante's forehead edged down his neck and past his collarbone. The murderous hole through his skull, however, was gone.

"I don't blame you for the shot, but did you really have to steal the other one too?" Dante grudgingly pushed off the ground, leaving only a thin puddle of blood in his wake.

"I figured you'd have tried doing the same." Kizuato simply responded, tweaking his bandana back to normal without the slightest notice that the inhuman being before him had recovered from such a life threatening assault.

"What can I say?" Dante responded, batting down his lax trousers from the unsanitary coating of the courtyard ground, "-there are never any good playmates anymore." That mocking glint returned to the half-blood's glare as what remained of their streetlight masquerade died out, as though a grand black curtain was drawn across. From their dynamic poses both of these superior warriors glanced to their accompanying shadows, both relaxing their battle dance and melting into a casual stance, shooting their spiteful glares away from one another as they inspected the night in unison.  
"Who killed the lights?" Dante called out, throwing his arms out dramatically with his sword 'Rebellion' lying out across his outstretched arm. Even being half a devil, this was a serious downer on Dante's abilities- however this was not true for Kizuato, whose Perfect Sight technique allowed him precise vision even in such hopeless light. Clutching the stub handle of his slightly warped kunai, young 'Ato raised the specialist blade out at arms length- Dante had taken to spinning lightly on the spot, calling out into the darkness for any sign of what was causing such an unusual fluctuation. The black carpet was passing on ahead, eating the light further down into the city as all the lights died out one after another, burrowing Neo-Tokyo into darkness.

"I may not be a technological genius but…I'm guessing that is a bad thing." The tip of Kizuato's kunai was facing away from them both, facing off into the beyond, into which Dante could not see. Shuffling over to the aware ninja's side Dante leant forward, positioning a hand over his eyes to steady his view. At this instance it would be simple for the assassin to slit this capable warriors throat and continue his search- however to kill an opponent when they were at such a disadvantage, especially one who at least seems to have some spark of honour, wasn't his way. Through the interlinking side streets and roads of downtown Neo-Tokyo an unrecognised force tore havoc through the bowels of the district- the torrent of gravel and cement tearing through the streets like a low-flying ballistic missile. Dante only managed to make out this storming form by the almost wave like backlash from its onward rampage- before he could even question the eagle eyed stranger on what in Mundus' name he was looking at, Kizuato snaked his head back to face the devil hunter, face blank and with no inclination of his motives. For a second Dante tensed the grip on his sword, expecting some rebuttal assault while there was a distraction to be exploited- with two fingers poised in the form of a pistol, the slick ninja posed his opposite hand just beyond Dante's temple. Considering Dante was holding his blade with two hands he had to admit, had they both had one firearm apiece, the assassin would be at the advantage here. In a slow voice Kizuato jerked his hand.  
"Bang." The words followed a short pause. No sooner had this deciding rhetorical shot been fired than Dante pushed back his leg, forcing up his weight through his body and churning his sword, attached kunai and all, into a dramatic arc which ended with the son of Sparda holding out the sword one handed at a climactic angle as the ninja brother was vaulted into the sky, and refused to return from the nightly heavens.

The torpedo velocity tearing through the downtown roads toppled shacks and towers alike as its wake grew more ferocious, the ground shivered and clumps of gravel the size of Dante's fist dances clumsily along the concrete. His head cocked aside into the abyss his unlikely fellow had shrouded his escape; Dante perked his vision back across his shoulder. The ground was kicking up and the street scarred through the centre, some unknown object propelling across the black paved road that fell apart in its wake, like some earth-bound comet. Rocking his head back Dante scoffed, barely audible even to himself above the climaxing roar. With his lengthy slate boot the devil hunter kicked the tip of his blade, bringing it up to his shoulder.

"Looks like I'm going solo on this one." Shuffling around to face the gloom of the dying backstreets Dante's form was immediately consumed by a building wave of rubble and dust, like a forceful wave preceding the impact of the strange and titanic form that charged down at the half blood in the lightless artificial fog. "Thanks a lot, asshole."

A hollow moaning filled the barren hallways, these doors and halls intertwined and connected seemingly at whim, laden with unopened doors-many of which locked. Such a complex building seemed without reason in a wasteland such as this, for what reason could a mansion complex of this density be of use in the ruins of a dead city?

The black shadow shape bobbed along above the scattering crimson rug, like a white-faced spirit draped in a long black veil of pure darkness, pierced through by the light of the candles and giving a translucent aura. The entity known as No-Face paced noiselessly, though he may have had legs they were concealed in his shadow form body, the movements swam in a fluid and creepy motion- and behind this stalking soul, a creature no less creepy haunted down the deserted halls.

A long, bony finger pierced through No-Face's ghostly body, to no effect. Ryuzaki followed pace-for-pace as the spirit butler went about his duties, L had already followed the haunting black glob through the kitchens, only to trail into the lower stories of the building, all the while the carpet of matted fleshy slime marked the hallway walls as though some decaying beast had limped on last legs through the mansion, slumping down into the lower bowls of the dimly lit mansion home. Prodding at the gas-like wanderer before him, the curious Ryuzaki made special care to avoid stepping into the dried slop that trailed in some patches along the lane of the rug, or even across some spaces of the wall- especially considering he remained without shoes, and among some of Ryuzaki's other quirks, he wasn't particularly keen on stepping in something so unsanitary.

At first the raven haired genius hadn't been able to recognise for what purpose this 'No-Face' was following the crusted trail alongside him, however after some short time he made some assumptions, and decided to investigate into the clearly inhuman creature in the meanwhile, until his presumption could be proven.

"I wonder if Face-kun can talk?" Ryuzaki requested of the spirit, leaning his body slightly to one side as he stalked behind it. All the noise that No-Face emitted was a gentle moan, but no words. With a forefinger pressed to his lip the hunchback detective watched that blank masked face from the sidelines, no response.  
"Is Face-kun looking for the maid girl?" This time L was more direct, he had assumed early on that this servant was searching out something-or someone- and given the absence of the young servant girl that Light and himself had encountered before, Ryuzaki would first assume the reason for the stray ghouls behaviour had something to do with it- the smeared blood and melted skin didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. From the crescent grove that symbolised the mouth of the gloomy mask a muffled whimper, like the final whimpering breaths of some feeble man, addressed L's words as a phantom chime; this choked whisper only intrigued the curious detective further. Asides those stark bare feet the blood trails began to form into only a meagre slither, smudges, and then mere specks before vanishing from their path entirely. Whatever had caused it was not on this end of the trail- however from the looks of it, it had begun somewhere close.

At the brim of the wide hall the path met into a firm dead-way, nothing but a typical doorway no different from those around it standing at its face, and no indication that anything had passed through its presence, recent or otherwise. This, however, was not the only path available- No-Face had already came to a drifting halt, seeming to weave gently in the air just a fraction above the rug, having already passed the ghoul, L placed his oddly posed hand onto the simple brass doorknob, twisting with his thumb and forefinger. Locked, not something unusual in a daunting mansion- Ryuzaki almost felt like he was alongside those FBI agents in the bombers hotel, all that time ago.

Something tapped at L's shoulder, something like a chilled pillow pressed against his shirt and making him recoil with reflexes that appeared slower than most. The spectre had prodded the detective, whom was hunched in his specialised crouching stance, only to meet with a wide-eyed glance of surprise.

"How can you touch me if I can't touch you?" This was the first thing out of Ryuzaki's mouth, though he was aware this fellow had mostly limited responses. This was not the important part however, as no sooner did the haunting black shape catch Ryuzaki's attention than it departed through an open doorway to the left side of the hall, which L had scooted past. One of the rules of thorough investigation, always check the immediate area first before moving on- however had L noticed the curled human form sitting alone in a somewhat feeble position, he may have done what he did best, and ignore the norm.

The masked whisperer wandered through the open passage, as opposed to the wall for once, under the simple parted wooden frame that looked no different from the three other doorways at this turn. Backing up in his steps Ryuzaki, hands slumped into pockets, reversed without changing face until he was opposite to this new passage- his new ghostly friend already gracing the light violet flooring within. The shoeless detective was grateful to find delicate shag carpet beneath his toes, and twiddled them affectionately as he stared for a moment to the ground, had anyone been watching him then L would no doubt experience one of many unusual looks he was so adapted to. None the less, once his attention had risen from his own feet and his stiff neck craned upward, the huddle form besides the small single bed at the far side took away whatever concern he may have regarding his feet. No-Face drifted close by the young girl holding at her knees.

"Sitting like that helps you think, doesn't it?" Ryuzaki's words went unheeded as he pointed out the clear benefits of sitting like that- at least in his own mind.

This considerably smaller side-room was just as lush in it's furnishings as the mansions tastes seemed to dictate, the walls were plastered with a maroon paper laced with golden ivy that crawled out along the fringe of the sides and from the carpeted floor like sensual sparkling fractures that only diminished the want of lighting- possibly why the only bright source in the chamber was the single fresh candle burning on the side table, wax dripping lazily off its surface and rolling down onto a torn out package of bandages that laid aside the silver holster on the polished table surface. The bed covers were a similar tone to that of the carpeting, only a more dense plum in tone, and with some rather ghastly slashes on the underbelly mattress of the thrown back covers- stained with a dense red slather that ran down onto the floor.

"Why would he go?" The young girl clutched her legs, pressing her knees against her forehead, smearing the dotting tears that trailed down to her tattered pale shorts. L immediately recognised her, how could he forget?  
"You don't use nearly enough sugar in your coffee." The sharp-witted detective matched her stance merely a few inches from her trembling shape, albeit he did seem rather more comical in the childish hunch. Aside the pair the lopsided spirit drifted past, unleashing a dull howl against Kaori's diminishing sobs. The candles dance sent the shadows of the coiling bandages in an epic parade across blood soaked sheets, the red pulse trailing down into thin lakes into the crevices of ghoulish gashes that tore the mattress apart.

Slowly, a bony index finger pressed to her shadowed forehead, gently lifting her head from her knee's and bringing her innocent hazel eyes to latch with the grand spooky spheres that remained to observe her, unblinking, unwavering. She recognised this strange man; he'd been watching her since she first appeared in their doorway- carrying the tray and avoiding their sniping questions.

"I'm sorry." She spoke meekly, rubbing her forearms across her eyes. Ryuzaki could only assume from the redness of her eyes she'd been here some time in this state, of course it was fully understandable- locked in some madhouse, and for someone so young. Yet, L already had strong belief that not everyone here was as they seemed.

"You've been here longer than I have." The young detective placed a hand against the bottom of her chin, holding her gaze up with a few fingers in the same delicate manner he held most objects at length. "Perhaps you can tell me, what you're doing here?" Ryuzaki attempted not to frighten her, as he seemed so prone on doing. More than anything though, it was the way he stared at her that made him seem such a daunting form. However nobody in memory had seen L blink, so she'd have to put up with it.

Aside the blood stained bed sheets came the gentle grunts of the wandering ghost, No-Face laid slotted marking pupils onto the scarlet ravages, unleashing a hollow whimper as his phantom arm extended to prod against the silver bandages. Ryuzaki's broad sight tilted slightly over toward the bed, clearly the gruesome trails end was distressing the voiceless ghost. The pen on the mental notepad scratched away as poor Kaori cleared her eyes and sat huddled in the flickering shadow of the creepy stranger. Her shaggy garbs were torn and stained, her shoulder length black hair messy and wild. It was clear she came from a difficult place, a slum perhaps, and her eyes spoke volumes of the things she had seen- even in such a place, surrounded by people so dangerous and blooded trails of torn flesh and creatures that are neither men nor god, she seemed so unfazed.

"I…don't really know how I…" Her words seemed lost and unclear; slowly Ryuzaki's crooked neck slinked back into place, his headlamp-like eyes inspecting her as she tried to make sense of what she could offer, of what would make sense to say. The masked face of the curious spirit twisted around, it's face as blank as that of the pale skinned investigator. They were a suiting pair, unreadable, unmistakable.

"I suppose not." L muttered under his breath, after all he couldn't recall exactly how he and Light had shown up here either. Gradually Ryuzaki pushed up from his kneel, drawing up to his full height, given his persistent hunch, and slid his hands back into their protective blankets at the sides of his plain baggy jeans. The slither of the vital fluid that smeared through the confines of the small room, building in mass and vulgar tone as it wretched through the doorway, drew his attention away from its source at the bed, had this been caused by something human? Surely there was no human with such an amount of blood to waste. The marks and scrapes along the walls only convinced L further.

"I remember…I ran…" She paced her words slowly, the man's hunched frame did not move, his back to her as his wide pupils trailed the path of gore. Along the base of the walls, blooded hand prints, hand prints that grey wider and more disfigured the father it dragged itself across the ground. "They…shot me." Now Ryuzaki's eyes passed down the line of blood, and continued moving under they pressed back against his head, turning slightly with a bare footed slide under his angled head once again brought the feeble young girl into view. Her mouth was shadowed, she almost seemed to be trembling, but that would more likely have been the shade of the flame against her curdled shape. A rattled breath much as No-Faces coursed through her. "I think I died."


	8. Of But a Devil

**Stage Eight – Of But a Devil**

A titanic slam slew Dante's boots from the rushing ground. The tremor force rattled the cement and asphalt from the paved foundations and threw the roads into divided halves. Some slashing form burst through the thundering shield of rattled mist, like a grand arching tail of some terrible whale that collided fiercely into the devil hunter- consuming him into darkness as the rolling wave of black dust dominated the streets and buckled the buildings that framed this ground zero disaster. The flailing might was a great girder of steel, like a great curved blade, or a sharp metallic fin, ripping through the gravel and sending the ruins of the road cascading into the metallic structure of some stumpy corporate complex that lay in the wake of the rampaging apocalypse.

From the bellow of crushing force the striking limb forced once more into a great arch, slashing a great gash into the earth below, and ricocheting some midst fogged form skyward as the great steel blade tore the air apart. Dante's boots pressed firm against the rough slant of the blade the devil was launched from the shroud of broken glass and grit and into the empty void of the night sky, leaving the breaking shroud beneath him before sliding his trusted curve-edge blade past his arm and across his shoulder. The raging form beneath him slackened its pace as Dante hovered for the instant overhead, invisible against the night. A slight shimmer was the only warning as the turning of his silver blade twisted into its downward arch, and the flaring red form came as a comet, sword held overhead and searing down like a bolt into the shrouded churning shape with a deafening clatter of steel on steel. The rolling engine of destruction was hit with a discharging spark as the razor edge of 'Rebellion' struck with in the Helm-Breaker manoeuvre, it's carving trail through the centre of the downtown slum swayed wildly, like a vehicle spun off it's tracks as the shadow eyed man came down to ground level blade first, striking the gravel and sending grit airborne. The dusted haze lifted as the torrent of rage span out into the centre of the intersection, screeching horrendously like burning wheels melding with the injured howl of some great beast. The spiralling wreck tore through the lower story of some hideously decrepit garage building, leaving a great ring of burning rubber in half-arches across the partially destroyed roadway. Gradually Dante spanked the crumbles from his fine jacket sleeves, dusting them tentatively as the billow of smoke and wreckage subsided into a halt, the sound of a choking snarl paired with the pained growl of a rustic engine. This brought Dante no haste. The snow crowned young man merely inspected the length of his treasured weapon, the bestowed gift by his father, the demon knight. From the belly of the ripple ridge of concrete that had shifted up behind the charging form, which now drew rattling breathes as the heated steam of scorched road and searing flesh and metal came to rest. A lethal talon of a blade surged forth and struck the weak asphalt of the poorly paved road, slicing through the turn in the road and churning up some of the cement path that aligned it. The churning shape that clutched its way through the night drawn backstreets was the size of a great limping stallion; mechanical churnings belched terrible screeches and cracks as a coarse breathing rattled out into the night. Clicking the hide of his thick boots against the dust Dante drew out his glance along his shoulder blade and laid a confident smirk onto the hulk that had already torn through most of the lower motorways. It was a ghastly sight to say the least. The extended talon claw shed a piercing clang against concrete, attached through a mesh of steel and wires that seemed as veins in a living creature- a hideous tentacle attached to a sharp blade of metal, linked grotesquely with an accumulation of steel and rust that formed into something of a monstrous inhuman arm. At the base of this arm was a reasonably sized human torso, granted still with strikes of girder and meshed metal pumping throughout its torn flesh. The arm opposite was arguably normal, although a slick silvery hue in colour in the moonlight, like the arm of a long dead body left to bleach in the dark.

"Damn, you couldn't make this easy on the eyes could you?" Dante lowered his head in a pestered shake, his moon toned locks waving across his face. "I've come across some hounds in my time, but no amount of liquor could get you into my bed." Gesturing with his hand in a cocky point the Sparda born teen span himself in a slight circle, his cape-like coat flaring up in his wake, rippling behind him before his hand came to rest on the hard, cold edge of Ebony. Back in her rightful place at his side, at least the ninja boy had been courteous enough to leave his trusted handguns behind. "Still," he persisted, this time grazing his sword across the ground as he paced carelessly forward, the hulking mass releasing a grinding grunt as it's human head, with white spiky and unruly mane, lurched forward with it's jagged jaws bared out, chipped and inhumanly shining, "-I'm never one to refuse the first date, so…" The devil hunter poised down on one knee, arm across his chest and head lowered so politely, "Shall we dance?"

The candle blew out. Silence fell for but a moment, the three occupants were left within darkness. The only noise was the click of Ryuzaki's nail tapping his front teeth, like the tick of a clock that seemed to descend down to Kaori's level once more. She was certain of her words, that much was true- she remembered the running, the panic, searching and calling out…then someone, she didn't remember who…

"You were shot?" The voice came from mere inches in front of her face. Hot, sweet smelling breath brushed against her nose, and she couldn't help but hold her own breath in as she felt the presence before her. Those wild owlish eyes, she could even see them in the darkness. "You think you died?" The question sounded foolish, but indeed that was the sensation her memory gave, in fact, it was the only one before her arrival here.

This time another sound came above his obsessive compulsive teeth clatter, something like the clang of metal, the click now sounding a chime against glass. With a low howl the black bodied spirit No-Face seemed to wander as a mask alone through the darkness, sliding down at her side until she was certain he was at her level. Huddled against the wall, asides the bed and between two very unusual creatures, the poor girl was trapped. She could see little space ahead of her, possibly because L's face was within blinking distance of her own, and whatever space aside to the bed was consumed by the unnatural black space where she could only assume the phantom form had stretched out his hands. There came a twitch from this filled void as something lighter, thicker, flicked out from the grasp of the ghost and wobbled in his fingers- it was a small stick. Uncertain, she reached forth into the inviting cupped hands of the looming, seemingly innocent spectre. Before her fingers came to contact with the finger-length line of wood they suddenly came in a flow, as though being pushed out through nightshade gloves in a spray of light twigs. She realised as they overflowed and tumbled from his hands that they were in fact matches. Clutching at the bundle Kaori managed to clasp a handful in the dark, dropping all but a few and taking one in her fingers, slipping the other few into her sock.

"Y-you can stop now." She said meekly, the bounty of flame starters billowing still into a small flood at her feet, she pleaded, raising her hands slightly, "I just need one!"

The flow ceased as quickly as it had sparked, with a gentle moan from the chalk mask of No-Face in an almost disappointed cry. Clearly, L thought t himself, this creature was practically born to serve- but then again, for what cause? It wasn't like she needed all those matches after all.

Again that gentle click persisted, almost like a spoon rattling in a glass, or something similar. Kaori closed her eyes, it was dark regardless, and she couldn't shake the outline of that white haunting mask and equally as nightmarish spherical eyes that loomed over her, of all the company to stumble upon, she had to encounter these creeps. She lifted an arm to the bedside table that stood just within reach of her Kaori shifted onto her knees in a crouch, tugging the metal holder of the dead candle closer with her fingers until she could finally bring back the light. There was the scratch of the matches head against the face of the table, and the typical seizure of sparks as the head birthed a gentle flame. Kaori had lived much of her life within the lower end slums of the apparent 'modern utopia' that was Neo-Tokyo, and so she knew her way around simple means such as matches, vehicles, and a few varieties of firearms.  
The source of the metallic tapping became clear, as L was hunched much closer to her than she had even suspected- blank eyes unmoving and absorbing, his gaunt jaw shifting as he chewed lightly and bony pale fingers supporting a now empty bowl of what appeared to be mint chocolate-chip ice cream. Without concern the unreadable detective shifted the bowl to his face, licking its surface clean with the spoon still dangling in that odd fashion between his fingertips.

"Well, clearly, some strange things are happening here…" The lanky man with the youthful looks licked across his lips, eyes wandering across the ceiling and head rocking absently as he flicked the spoon against his bare feet. "May I ask a question?" The detective began, continuing before she even responded, still staring at the roof, "-who, or what, have you been taking care of in here?" The question caught her somewhat off guard, and she found herself in difficulty to exactly justify what was going on, and despite her already nervous disposition to the situation, Kaori felt the sting to ask where in Akira's name the weird man had picked up a fresh bowl of frozen desert.

The first strike was thrown before Dante had raised his head. The dented scythe of a blade snapping out beyond the limit of that gruesome disfigured limb, causing it to split, stretch, thrown with a powerful elasticity. Frosted eyes rose from their bow just as the lash of the metallic whip came for Dante's neck. He stood from his gesture only to continue backward, leaning and falling as the ridged edge fell short of his throat, his body collapsing backward and kept from the floor by outstretched arms as the devil hunter poised facing the sky in a reverse crab position. The slash missed its target and broke from the arch of its slash, tugged back to the hulking form like some sickly tentacle. Now with two hands above his head pressing against the floor, stomach to the sky, Dante thrust himself off the grit floor with a lazy cartwheel, still holding tight to the hilt of his own sword all the while. As he lifted into an upright sate the smirk broke through his lips.

"C'mon, give me some credit." The boast was undeniable, but the beast seemed not to care. Dante brushed his thumb past his lip, catching sight of the margin thin red line it left across his hand. So the bastard had nicked him after all. Dante couldn't help but chuckle.

The warped creature ahead had charged down the streets like some demonic ride, even its breath held the presence of crunching gears and the choking rattle of a dying engine. Whether the cause or not Dante couldn't help figuring the monsters lower body had something to do with that, wherein its left leg seemed completely fused around what must have been the form of some unlucky motorbike- it was a mesh of purple and blue metal, and had Kizuguchi been there to witness it, he may well have recognised it as the remains of the bike that had been trashed during the sprint to the West Crater. Somehow this disaster, the walking abomination that hunched snarling across from the calm and not so-humble Dante, had absorbed the wreckage into its flesh, and a few other machines by the looks of its physical condition. From it's waist the head of the light purple cycle jutted, wrenched and fused with a mass of whatever gore and tat this phenomenon relied on- the tyre burnt nearly to the hilt, yet still churning at speed beyond it's own limiter, its spin fluctuating to the demons breath, as though a part of it's bodily system.

"Where do you stick the fuel pump?" Dante chortled, stroking his fingers along his chin as he surveyed the odd structure of his enemy, on the abominations chest, just below where its heart should be, the rear wheel of the cycle coughed into a spin as the pistons stuck through the beasts torso, connected by what seemed to be a fusion of steel and rib bone. The right leg, opposite arm and most of the body between the head and mid-torso appeared entirely human, though pale and slightly contorted in places. The head was that of a young male, probably not even sixteen, however his face was ravaged, hair a bleached white that struck out in all directions, and from its thin lips a thick black substance rolled down to its chin.

"There are so many momma jokes I could make, but I think I'll settle for slashing your tires." Swinging Rebellion past his shoulder Dante stood position, blade drawn and aimed to strike behind him, hovering off the ground with leg arched and a cocky grin. Pushing a taunt Dante brushed his hand back past his waistline, slipping the black bodied cannon from his hip and poising it in his fully outstretched arm. The bullet passed the barrel before his finger even squeezed the trigger. The nameless creature released a chiselling grunt as the shot blasted a clean hole through its bulked shoulder, sending the razor-armed tentacle swaying across the ground with an ear piercing grind.

"Let's see what you've got in that ugly shell of yours." The halfblooded demon demanded, and it obliged. Whatever internal engine the creature concealed cranked once again into life, the wheel protruding from its hip jagged violently in search of the path, and the secondary wheel jutting from its chest shared the hunger. Then something Dante hadn't expected, the seemingly normal arm at its side shot forth, muscles tearing and splitting as it extended beyond it's own reach, digging fingers of steel into the earth before tearing back it's shoulder in a dynamic pull that forced the entirety of its body from the shattered earth on which it stood, tearing it once more against the fractured streets as the litter and broken ground in its wake followed in a tide. The furious form shot forth, laid out on it's chest as the blood spurting wheels sanded down the tarmac on which they ran, and the ghastly weapon that placed where an arm once was dragged behind, splitting the roads it crossed into two gaping halves.

The devil hunter watched with cautious eyes, his arm still bearing the weight of his handgun at full length as the brief wait closed the gap between the opposing forces- in no time the vaulting monstrosity was bearing down upon him. The hooked blade rose to strike the man in the red coat, swinging down at an angle like the strike of a scorpion, those near human eyes bearing pale grey pupils against red veined, pearl white eyes. Dante steadied himself, the blow was prepared, the gap was open for him to lunge the sword and meet the attack with his own strike of the blade. Dante released Rebellion. The sword was left embedded diagonally in the earth where he had held it, his hands pulling away as the silver haired warrior struck the ground with his boots, lifting off to an inhuman height that flew fresh and clear from the collision path of the roaring mass. The assault continued and the path of the sweeping tentacle was met with the thin edge of Dante's trusted sword, the clash came with a dreadful ring as the solid surfaces collided, the curved edge of the scythe sweeping across the harsh side of Rebellion, sweeping along the length of it's body before slipping off the curved blades point, Dante's sword refusing to budge from the ground, and slicing into the body of the fleshy tentacle as it slipped off from the carvers surface. The lashing limb came apart in the wake of the blade, slicing the head of the tentacle clean off and the gruesome scythe along with it. What remained of the charge collided, the grisly form of the devil crashed into Dante's memorial sword and dislodged it forcibly from its place, sending it with a spin into the air. All this before Dante came once more to the ground on both feet. Raising an arm Dante let his scarlet sleeve slip down to his shoulder, his partially leather gloved hand remaining still until finally the handle of his beloved blade came to rest within his grip. Such elaborate combat ballets were Dante's key forte.

The second son of the Demon Knight stood, sword held over his head, on the split earth where his new enemy had torn the road directly through the dead centre, leaving a chasm that seared with melted tarmac and baking dirt and stones. Behind him the severed limb cracked against the sidewalk and rattled to a rest in the dark corner of some deserted alley, through the shadows it still writhed and lashed before the twitches subsided and the bladed tentacle fell dead. Snapping his head back Dante caught sight of the wheeled menace breaking into a rearing stance, lifting its body from the filth it had torn through the sub-roads with a screech as what rubbery flesh the tires still held tore away, body almost flipping over as the mutant swerved, it's pulsating arm tearing forth and digging once more into tarmac to steady itself, the violent wheel embedded in its chest tearing loose as it skids off from the ground. After its first charge the pulsing form laid its naked human leg to the ground, its gormless expression locked to Dante's now more serious expression- the pale, green hued skin fractured and inhuman, as the lethal jaws cracked into an all too human smirk. The hunter had faced a wide variety of demons, some worse than others, and he began to think that not every strange creature here was a devil…

"Not even a peep." Dante flicked his hair, lowering the sword from the skies and regaining his posture. He had at least removed that elastic be-header from the creature's arsenal; from the looks of things that appendage had been the worst of his problems.

Of course, as with all things, the most dangerous factors had remained hidden.

Without warning the pave began to jerk beneath Dante's thick boots, his legs jolted as the ripple seizure crossed underfoot. Casting his gaze to the floor Dante realised that below him the earth was splitting, right from the centre of the ripped crevice the stone below the roads was collapsing and splitting. There was no doubt this was the freaks work- that warped grin more than gave it away. Slipping seamlessly from the break Dante landed down on one leg, which was the opening that the warped beast had been waiting on. No sooner had Dante shifted his weight than an unseen force crashed him from the side with the pressure of an invisible freighter. Knocked clean from his feet Dante was slung sideways, having no idea to what had struck him, before he landed into a much undignified roll in the dirt, some distance from where he had intended to land. Hand pressed to the ground Dante's eyes darted, was there something else nearby, something that he could see? It wasn't that unlikely, he'd faced such creatures in the past. It was that smile, however, that etched along the abominations lips that made him doubt. Its playtime was over, and now it wanted to finish the game.

"Picked up some new moves, huh?" Dante grunted, trying to remain his flamboyant display, intending to push off from the ground as though nothing had happened. Only he could not. His hands were forcing to the ground, making their effort to lift him, but something was keeping him down- and that something was growing heavier.

"Hey, this doesn't seem fair!" The paralyzed swordsman was unable to lift himself and the force applying to his chest against the earth was growing, something was crushing him but he couldn't even see what! On top of that, off in the shade of the distance, he beast's eyes were closing, its human arm rising slowly from its side. Then the ground under Dante began to crack. Only this time it was not the earth splitting, but the impossible weight was shattering the road under Dante. Were it not for the demon within his veins, he would certainly have been shattered under the force.

"I think we've had enough fun." Dante managed to pierce through his gritted teeth, he was managing to keep his arms from snapping under his own improved weight, and however he could feel his flesh and bone ribs give way. "You're starting to piss me off."

The crackling of the pave was matched by another sound, a building tremble that waved like a tremor outward from the flattened form of Dante, that sparking sound, much like a soaring fire consuming it's wilted prey, with each rise the ground around Dante began to sear and steam, flickers and small flares bouncing off the shattered road as the Devil Hunters crushed breath hastened, each time more laboured, but still the rising energy continued to rattle the night air- the black skies swaying as though caught above a heat wave. Dante pushed forth against the ground, and he slowly began to rise.

The beast's foul, dripping smirk faded into a persistent twitch of colourless lips. With only one arm the hulking shape's limbless shoulder pulsed fiercely, its lower jaw dropping, a line of drool slung between its bared fangs, and thick bulging veins flaring across its forehead. Dead white hair trembled as its artery laden pupils became closed. There came the terrible brunt, a fierce cry from the bowls of the demons mechanical throat, the mere tremor of which seemed accelerated, pushing a void through the air which sent a tremor through the skies overhead. At ground level, the carnage that surrounded them shook as broken glass and fractures of pure metal and earth span on their foundations, lifting miraculously from the filth and hanging suspended within the air. The tension that had thrust Dante's breast to the earth dispersed, flooding past his form and trembling the aura that surrounded him- which seemed to be taking on a much more physical form, no longer were the sparks of determination a charismatic feature, they were shown in great strikes of lightning that burst off from the devil hunters bare skin, his own body illuminated by the ferocity that drove him onward, bathing him in a blooded glow of hellish red.

The gloating blue eyes had risen once more to face level, not supported by the force of his own body, as Dante made no effort to force himself from the ground, it was as though the tingle that swept through the air around him had pushed his form back into place, and those eyes that were once blue, held a formidable ring of scarlet fire. Then came the assault of the beast, with only one arm and relying solely on its hidden advantage, the fleshy disaster raised the twisted limb that remained to him, meeting the sharp gaze of the devil with it's own dead, daring stare. The struggled groan of rusted gears seething on grit was the last of noise before the once bustling back streets to the utopian slums of Neo-Tokyo were devoured in silence, and a holy, perpetual twilight.


End file.
